


Mad Love

by TheIndigoWitchofHope



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Homestuck
Genre: F/F, F/M, I know it looks like a huge weird orgy but its not, I swear, Its batman stuff, M/M, No ones dead yet though, So now with a slight mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-04-14 12:31:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 25,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4564770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIndigoWitchofHope/pseuds/TheIndigoWitchofHope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As I fall to my death eight storys up from an abandoned warehouse miles from anyone who might hear my shouts of distress, that is, if I werent so damn badass that shouting for help was beneath me, I couldnt help but dwell on where I might have gone wrong in my shitty life. Or actually how far I've fallen.</p><p>Get it!? </p><p>Because I was pushed from a fucking window and I'm falling to my death. </p><p>Its funny!</p><p>No its not its fucking lame. </p><p>Fuck, I always thought the stairs would get me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

As I fall to my death eight storys up from an abandoned warehouse miles from anyone who might hear my shouts of distress, that is, if I werent so damn badass that shouting for help was beneath me, I couldnt help but dwell on where I might have gone wrong in my shitty life. Or actually how far I've fallen.

Get it!? 

Because I was pushed from a fucking window and I'm falling to my death. 

Its funny!

No its not its fucking lame. 

Fuck, I always thought the stairs would get me. 

But I'm getting too far ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning. 

My name is Dave Strider and I am-er was-a psychiatrist at English Asylum in the city of Skaia and this is the story of how I complete changed my life for The Trickster and got brutal fucked over.


	2. Are you sure?

"David, my socially awkward and neurotic twin brother, a psychiatrist just like his big sister," my beloved sister Rose drawled in a saccharine matter over the rim of her wine glass with a condescending smirk. The raw pride was just dripping from her onxy painted lips. It made me feel all tingly inside. 

"You got your masters in creative writing, so fuck you Lalonde," I drawled back with just a hint of my strange mix of Brooklyn and Houston fighting for dominance over my words like two gorgeous individuals wrestling in a tub of apple juice, battling for the title of Sexiest Accent Ever. Man, all that apple juice....

"David, are you listening to me?" Rose asked, narrowing her violet eyes as she snapped me out of my daydream of swimming in a pool of apple rich godliness. 

"Its really sad that youre my twin sister and still get my name wrong on a daily basis," I replied since I totally blank on what ever psychoanalysis mumbojumbo she was probably going on about. I've literally been studying the shit everyday for like 6 years. I want one day where I am not being examined on a regular basis. One damn day!

"DAVID!" Rose snapped sharply, once more bringing me back to earth. 

"Maybe I would pay better attention if you weren't addressing me by this false alias 'David' you seem to favor so much." I deadpanned with the Strider patented pokerface. Lady Gaga ain't got nothing on us. 

However, being that she's my twin sister, its more than safe to assume that by the purse of her ink colored lips that Rose was very unimpressed with my charm. Or it could just be because she's a lesbian and my pan powers dont work since no one believes I exist. 

"Dave..." she said with a soul suffering sigh. "Honestly. You didnt hear a word I said did you?"

"Not a one!" I smirked, making her roll her eyes. "Now what did you say, oh lovely sister of mine?"

"I was asking you how you felt about being the first psychologist fresh out of school to be hired by English Asylum to work in the maximum security wing," she asked swirling the crimson liquid in her glass slowly, lavender orbs trained on the small whirlpool that formed there. "Its quite a prestigious position given to one so green. Almost too good to be true." Her eyes cut up to focus on my own scarlet orbs obscured by a pair of frameless "ironically scholarly" shades. How she manages to make direct eye contact with a prescription as dark as mine, I'll never know. 

"What can I say, my professor was close with Dr. Scratch. I got in on a stellar recommendation and working my ass off," I shrugged nonchalantly. I acted like i didnt give a shit, but it was true none the less, no matter how odd it seemed. 

I mean ive always flipped flopped with what I wanted to do in life. First it was music and then for a long time it was paleontology, but for some strange reason psychology and me just ended up sticking despite it being my sisters passion of choice. She ended up getting a masters in creative writing as she published her second successful novel, and I pursued psychology as a career while still finding time to experiment musics effects on psychosis when doing small gigs at clubs near NYU. Funny how things turn out. 

"I wasnt implying that foul play was afoot, or that you have any less than earned your position." Rose said with a small proud smile, so quick it might have been a trick of the light. "I just feel...worried."

"Worried about what?" I asked with a quirk of my brow. "Its like one of the best facilities in the state of New York, the maximum security wing is like legit maximum security. I mean, yeah theres some serious issues behind those plexiglas walls, but its my job to help those people. We might not be able to introduce all of them back into society, but we can at least make life a little easier on them and shit."

Rose avoided my gaze and continued to swish the dwindling wine in her glass hypnotically while deep in thought. "Do you watch the news?" She asked suddenly when the silence had stretched in to borderline uncomfortable territory. 

"Nope! Gives me heartburn," I replied with a drink from my cup of cherry Coke. It also gives me nightmares, but thats not something she needed to know. 

Choosing to ignore my small pass at comedy she continued. "They captured The Trickster last night." Her wine glass settled, now empty, firmly on the table as Rose brought her elbows up to rest on either side of the glass, her fingers weaving together so they may cradle her pointed chin as her violet eyes scanned my face. 

"Really," I asked, forcing my body to stay relaxed so she wouldn't see the unnerved shock that ran through me at the notorious villains title. "I most certainly did not know that."

"Dave I just want to know if you'll be alright." Rose murmured lowly with her brow furrowed and fingers tight with strain, concern oozing from her usually tight knit facade of control. "I know its been ten years and you seem to be over the incident-"

"Which I am," I interjected, the lie bitter on my tongue. 

Rose's frown deepened further as she regarded me. "I know the villains terrify you," she said in a low soothing manner that did nothing to keep the moister from gathering in my palms. "And many of those villains end up being sent to English." 

"First of all, get the idea that I'm "terrified" of super villains out of your pretty blonde noggin," I began, and she looked up at me skeptically. "I'm not terrified of anything or anyone dammit. I'm a Strider. Striders aren't scared of shit."

"Smuppets." She crooned with a creepy wave of her fingers eliciting a small cringe from me despite my best efforts to keep the haunting image of dick nosed puppets from my minds eye. "And it's alright to have some type of fear or unease toward the villains, most people do and you have even more reason after-"

"Rose." I grounded out my eyes focused on the weird lettuce leaf thing left over from my dinner. "I dont want to talk about it. I'm fine." She opened her mouth one more and I held up my hand in a stop motion. "If I feel like somethings wrong I'll come to you. I promise."

I looked up to find her violet eye boring into me, worry etched into the small crease between her brow brought on by her concerned frown. 

"Are you absolutely sure you can handle this?" She asked slowly her lips pursed and tilted downward. 

"Positive," I answered with an affirmative nod. 

I'll be fine. I'm sure I'll be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like this stuff is all unbetaed atm so sorry for any mistakes


	3. I am most certainly not okay

Fuck its hot. 

The expanse of Houston stretched out into to far horizon as far as my eyes could see. Buildings jutted up from the ground where charcoal grey and oil stained concrete lay hundreds of feet below me.

Above me the sun beat down with an impossible heat, white against the smog filled grey-blue sky. 

What am I-, the thought cut of abruptly as I flashstepped to my left narrowly avoiding the downward strike of a katana, quick as lightening, going for my right shoulder. 

I brought my own sword, some how forgotten in my hands, up and to the side to block the follow through of a slice to my side. 

A black tanktop and pointed shades became my target of focus as I moved fluidly with my motions. My mind was set on winning. Bro was watching and I wanted to show him that, though Dirk was 3 years older, I was better even at 13. 

The world faded from view as I moved with my sword, slashing and dodging. Up, down, twist, slash, left, dodge, up, stab. Make them proud. Win. Win. Win!

The clatter of steel on cement reached my ears and brought me out of my trance. The darkness lifted from my vision and saw Dirks sword, glistening crimson in the sun. 

"Fuck, I beat him," I grinned widely, breaking momentarily from my coolkid facade and looked forward at Dirk. "Dude I totally-"

The words choked in my throat as I gaze horror stricken at the void space on Dirks shoulders where his head usually sat. The same head usually accompanied by a pair of headphones or weird hat he would never be caught dead wearing in public. 

Gone. 

My breathing hitched as my eyes trailed down the bloody torso and skinny jeans. And there between the pair of red-washed white sneakers was Dirks head, jaw slackened and amber eyes gazing thought his pointed shades into my scarlet orbs with slight confusion and shock, almost as if he was gonna say "Wow Dave you totally did beat me. Thats impossible! I want a rematch." 

Inexplicably, I found myself kneeling into the gravel with his head in my hands, heavier than I thought it would be. I gotta fix this, I thought numbly standing up to try in vain to set Dirks head atop his shoulders. I have to fix this or Bro will be-

My head snapped to the side as I looked at the roof entrance, where Bro was standing at the start to the fight, to see him still there. I shuffled brokenly toward him, Dirks head between my blood slick palms. 

"Bro. I'm so sorry. I dont know what happened." I sobbed dryly as my chest began to ache with the suppressed terror. Bro continued to look down at me through his shades, face expressionless and cool as ever, which only made my rambling worse. "I didnt do it. I would never hurt him. We were just strifing. I didnt do it. I didnt kill him." 

I looked up at him petrified of what he was going to say, of what he might do. I'm a murderer. I killed my own brother. I'm a monster. 

And yet the silence stretched on, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he loomed over me. It was only when I focused on his folded arms that I noticed the handle sticking out from between them. 

"Bro," I whispered as I reached forward and tugged one of his arms just for it to fall limply at his side, revealing the hilt of a not so shitty sword and a rapidly growing blood stain on his once blindingly white polo. 

My mind went blank. My brothers were dead. They were gone. My family is gone. They're dead. Theyredeadtheyredeadtheyredea-

"CAW!" the noise pierced the heat riddled air and drew my eyes from my focal point of grief. 

It was a crow, some what larger than an average crow, but a crow nonetheless and it sat atop the door frame of the roofs entrance. 

The sky behind the crow, which was once blue and normal, glitched before my eyes to reveal a dark sky with clouds made of smoke. Instead of Houston stretching before me, miles and miles of lava, bright orange and white with heat, encompassed my vision. What were once buildings were now enormous figures of gears and clock work, the time stopped on 4:13.

My breath wheezed through my constricting chest as panic began to over take me. Bro was dead. Dirk was dead. I'm all alone. I'm all alone in this inferno. 

"CAW!" The crows eerie call came again only in greater volume than before. It was then that I notice there was not one crow but maybe a thousand surrounding me. Eyes the color of blood red marbles stared unblinkingly back up at me. 

"I'm sorry," I whispered, the tears running free as the pressure from the gaze of my avian audience begged me to say something, anything, in defense of myself. "I didnt do it. It wasnt me."

The crow that sat perched atop the roof door hopped down and sat on the handle of the katana speared through Bros chest making me flinch. 

The bird opened its long ebony beak and to speak but instead of its own shrill call it was my voice. "I did it," the crow said slyly, "I killed them."

"I didnt," I murmured the tears flowing heavily now as I cradled Dirks head close to my chest protectively. 

"I killed my brothers," the bird said and gave a harsh chuckle I have never uttered from my own lips. 

"Its not true." I whispered vehemently, shaking my head back in forth in a way sure enough to give me whiplash. "This wasnt supposed to happen."

"Dave," the crow cawed harshly as the others began to follow suit, all of them blaming me for crimes I didnt commit. I would never hurt my brothers, I thought to myself shutting my eyes tight. Its not my fault. "My fault, all my fault," the crows cryed in unison with my voice. I would never- "I killed my own brothers. I killed them. I did it. Ididitididitididit-" 

"ITS NOT TRUE!" I shouted my eyes snapping open to regard the hellbeasts with hate. "ITS NOT FUCKING TRUE!"

Silence rang after my screams the birds dirty crimson eyes transfixed on me. And then, one by one, the birds tipped over and fell dead to the ground. 

"Dave," they croaked painfully as I watched in horror while their little bodys fell limply onto the roof. 

I held my breath, willing my eyes to stay open but I couldnt. I couldnt just leave them all there. I had to get rid of them and then I had to take care of my brothers. And then maybe I would take care of myself. 

It seemed as if I opened by eyes in slow motion to finally witness the sea of cadavers and now I wish I hadnt. 

I stared at my body laying a few feet away in a lime green suit with my throat sliced open. My gaze traveled to another corpse, this one face down, with twenty or so knifes and shitty swords sticking out its back. Then another me in my favorite long sleeve tee with a record on it, its chest shot through and riddled with bullet holes. The crow that had spoke first now looked like me in a knights costume with a white sword stabbing me through my chest from the front and through my abdomen from the back. 

I didnt know I was screaming, all I knew was the mindless loop of four words: too many dead Daves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. You'll get your reason why eventually. I'll probably update it later this afternoon. Also thank you Luvlylexy for being my first comment. That made me smile :33


	4. 6:11

6:11

In 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10

Out 10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1

It never happened. Bro and Dirk are in Houston, alive and still assholes. I talked to them last night and argued over the true irony of MLP. The truth: there is no irony. Its legit a stupid show for children that brainwashes them to have an unfounded hope for humanity. 

I should know, I wrote a 5 page essay on the topic. 

In 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10

Out 10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1

6:12

And I'm definitely not not getting anymore sleep today. 

I slowly started stretching the muscles in my body to will myself upright. Starting from the tips of my pale toes and up to my ears, which I wiggled for novelty of having the odd ability. 

As I stretched my mind wandered and I remembered the horrific day that cursed me with such damning visions of terror on particularly bad nights. 

I was 13 and it was around Christmas time. Every year Bro shepherds me and Dirk up to cold as fuck New York for the holiday season to visit his ex baby mama and best friend Roxanne Lolande and her daughters Roxy and Rose. 

It was when we were already in New York that we remembered we hadn't gotten the girls gifts yet and knowing them and their weird passive aggressive tendencies they were already sure to have the perfect gifts for us. Not to be out done by the (probable) witches, we decided to drive a rental to the coastal city of Skaia. 

Skaia was notorious for a few things, gorgeous beaches, the typical large and all consuming city scape bustling with people, and malls that seemed to be packed with at least half those people at any given moment. 

On this particular evening Bro decided to stop at Derse Mall. The building was tall and formidable, sparking a deep indigo and violet in the Wednesday afternoon light as people milled in and out of the sliding black doors. 

Usually when the Striders enter a mall the day is sure to be spent seeing how long it would take to be banned from all the stores in said mall. Shortest amount in one stores was 20 minutes because Dirk threw a tantrum since there were no orange bras his size in Victoria's Secret. 

Today was not one of those days. 

Instead, Skaia decided to greet us with another of its notorious specialities: hostage situations courtesy of infamous supervillains. 

This would have been no problem for us Striders because Striders kickass all day every day no fucks given, except this was the fuckass villain famous for poisoning the air with some shit call fear toxin that does exactly what the fuck it sounds like it does. 

Two hours. Two hours of running around the mall watching my brothers be murdered or commit suicide. Two hours of watching Myself be murdered or commit suicide. Two hours of screaming myself hoarse as I kicked and punched anything that moved or made a noise. Two hours that felt like 2 thousand years stretched into eternity. 

And then it wore off. It was just like "hey, I'm bored mind fucking you. See ya later, loser!" and then just fucked off into the wind. 

I woke up kneeling on the chest of one of the security guards with my knuckles split and three bones in my right hand broken and the wrist of my left hand sprained to fuck all. Dirk was in a similar position with two guards fending him and his flashstepping fists off. Bro was no where in sight but I could hear him shouting for me and Dirk with a panic I didnt know he possessed. 

After the ambulance took us, and about 14 security guards in varying degrees of fuck up, to the hospital, it was explained to us that we had been drugged by a villain known as Queball, who had used the mall to test his latest batch of fear toxin. The police had not been able to catch the mastermind himself, but they were "lucky" enough to catch one of his cohorts a Dante "Doze" James who currently resided in the hospital due to his coma like state. 

After having a lengthy conversation with the head of security and the office manager, Bro deemed them terrified enough and we were on our way to the Lalondes, free gifts courtesy of the mall staff in hand. 

We didnt talk about it. It was a traumatic experience had by all and nobody was willing to rehash that shit. I dont know what Bro and Dirk saw, but we all kept glancing at each other when we thought that no one was looking. Dirk sat closer to me for the rest of the trip with his arm slung around my shoulders in an unironic bro hug and when we finally reached upstate Bro flashed into the backseat between us and we all just sat there leaning against one another for a while until Roxy came out to ask why we were all huddling together in the car while it snowed like a bunch of weirdos. 

And that was supposed to have been it. We got fucked up, we survived, and now we move the fuck on with our scarred little lives. And we would have, except for the fact that fear toxin effect everyone differently. 

Some people dont get effected at all: a rare immunity that almost never happens. Most people deal with effects that can be healed with therapy for a few month and then go on to live happy lives. And others...in others the effects tend to linger for the rest of their lives no matter how much therapy they have. 

Guess who got the worst end of the shit stick? 

Thats right, me. 

The "cure" for fear toxin is to get over your fear. Well, we tried that. I kept strifing with my bros and I even got a job working at an animal shelter in Houston taking care of injured birds, mostly crows and ravens. I wasnt scared of anything and yet I still got the nightmares almost every night.   
7:01  
I have a headache and my already blood red eyes are now bloodshot. I would try and go back to sleep, but I doubt I'll be getting any sleep for a while thanks to Rose reminding me about the villains now in my care. 

Maybe the day will go by quickly and without any problems, I thought to myself as I swung my feet of the bed and was met with a heart wrenching crunch that could only be a pair of haphazardly placed glasses at the wrong place at the worst time. 

"Fuck," I cussed, lifting my foot to pick out the little pieces of tinted glass. Thank gog for spares, I think dryly, standing with the bloody and broken glasses in hand as I hobbled to my bathroom door. 

7:06

I already regret getting out of bed today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't make promises about regular updates but if people like the story amd leave comments then who am I to deny the people what they want. That being said I have ap homework and classes (also a book im trying to publish) that I have obligations to so I hope you understand if updates tend to fluctuate.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and comments so far! Yall rock my lil world!!! :33


	5. Heir of Madness

English Asylum was one of the most secure and well funded psychiatric facilities in all of New York. It had acres of private property for long term housing and activities for patients. For their "high risk"(which is just a nice way of saying supernatural, volatile, or both in some cases) there was subterranean cells to insure maximum security. 

Standing outside this obscenely huge lime green mansion, I did not see the bragged about facilities. What I see before me is a building in need of a different shade of paint because god damn this is crazy. Its like a disney villains lair or some shit. 

8:56

Well I suppose I have gawked enough, I sighed to myself as I straighted my tie and walked through the large forest green door.

And what a surprise, more fucking green, I thought, my eyes wandering around the green and white foyer warily. Jegus Christ this is a lot of fucking green. I swear Scar from the Lion King is gonna come from down the hallway with a pack of hyenas singing about being well equipped for the day or some shit. 

"Mister Strider?" A woman called and I looked down to see a short pale skinned woman with bright green eyes and blonde hair so light it rivaled my own in it albino tones. 

"Yes, that me," I smiled professionally as I reached out to shake the womans hand and adjust my backup glasses, aviators from my freshman days, higher on the bridge of my nose. "You must be Miss English?"

"Indeed I am!" The woman chirped cheerfully, "But you can call me Calliope. We like to be a family here at English and I want you to feel at home with us." 

"Not too at home I hope. No offense, but I dont know if I wanna be behind the doors like my patients," I joked and she tittered behind her hand and I grinned, all circum to the Strider charm. 

"Well Mister Strider, let me show you the facilities." Calliope smiled as her kitten heels clicked against the black and emerald marble floor. 

The tour was nice once I got passed the massive amounts of Disney villain green. Despite how big the asylum was it didnt take long to get through all the buildings and it was pretty standard stuff to begin with, extended stay housing, therapy hall, administrators building, the usual. 

The usual until we got to the security building. 

"So this is where the guards are housed?" I asked with a low whistle at the fierce building. The only nongreen structure for miles, the security building stood tall and blindingly white against the verdant foliage of the surrounding forest. 

"Yes, the guards rest here and some even live here," Calliope nodded as we walked through the sliding doors and toward the elevator. "And underneath this building is our subterranean maximum security housing."

I tensed as the elevator slide open to reveal two armed guards on either side of the hell murder death box of doom. Calliope stepped forward calm as can be and turned around with a small whimsical smile. "Aren't you going to join me Mr. Strider?"

I was startled for a moment a blinked at her owlishly behind my glasses. Hell the fuck no am I getting into that steel metal death trap aimed down to satans lair, I thought as I smiled tightly and against my better judgement stepped into the doom box. I turned and faced the door, hands shoved deep into my pockets and clinched tight as the slow decent began. 

"Yes our maximum security facility is state of the art," Calliope continued, totally unaware of my inner turmoil. "The best in all of New York. Of course being the best we get the...harder to treat patients." 

"The super villains," I added and Calliope shook her head vigorously. 

"No no, we dont like to use the word villain to describe the patients." She said as the elevator dinged and we steeped out into a bright white hallway lined with thick reinforced metal doors and large windows. "These are simple individuals who have taken a turn down a hard path. It is our job to guide them toward a better life."

I nodded not trusting my voice to keep steady as she began to walk toward the first filled room on our immediate right. Inside was a pale woman with long blonde hair that had faded blue highlights. Her cerulean eye wandered the plain white room lazily in an almost trance like state. "This is Vriska Serket widely known as Mindfang. As I'm sure you probably know, she had manipulation powers of a supernatural variety. She has used this power to kill hundreds and is serving four life sentences plus 88 years but was brought to our facility because of an insanity plea." Vriska's eyes shone with a sudden clarity as her eye focused on us through the glass. The blue orbs seemed to glow as she gave a wide toothy grin and a sharp pain struck me behind the eyes. 

I swore, reaching up to palm my burning forehead, and just as soon as it started it stopped as Vriska yowled in pain and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. "Are you alright Mr Strider?" Calliope asked rubbing at her own temple with a small wince. "I'm terribly sorry. I was just about to warn you that she does have a tendency to try and use her power on the doctors when her medication starts to wear off." Calliope looked down at her wrist where a slim gold watch read 2:58. "It seems we caught her just before her auto-injection. What rotten luck."

"Does that happen often or..." I asked as sweat began to bead on the back of my neck as I continued to stare as the now glazed eyed female. 

"No, not usually. Not so strongly anyway," Calliope frowned as she took Vriska's chart off the wall and pulled out a pen to scribble a quick note. "We may have to up her medication or switch her to something else entirely. It happens every few weeks because she starts to build up an immunity."

I began to feel a icy dread swirl in my stomach as I continued to stare at Vriska through the glass. Her eyes landed on me once again and she smiled lucidly mouthing letters.   
'S'  
'T'  
'I'  
'D'  
'E'  
'R'

I jerked back and the villainess cackled jovially. "Is it smart to let her see us like that?" I asked pointed to the glass. "Also, is it Asylum policy that the patients know all the doctors or should I be concerned for my life?" 

Calliope's lips pinched and turned downward at the edges. "This is one-way glass," she answered tightly. "As for your name... I will be having a talk with Dr. Nitrman about sharing hospital business." 

With that she set the chart back in its tray and steered me toward a room across and to the right of Vriska's. In this room a woman with short dark, auburn hair who sat on her bed with a wicked grin, flipping a coin up into the air from the tips of her fingers. Her eyes were solid crimson orbs surrounded by acid eaten skin. "Terezi Pyrope..." I muttered dumb struck by the sight. 

"You know her?" Calliope asked and I nodded somberly. 

"Yeah, her case was all over the news," I sighed as news reels flashes of the ex defense attorneys downfall passed through my mind. "I never knew she ended up here though."

"Her psychological exam diagnosed her with sever bipolar disorder and schizophrenia and the courts sent her to us." Calliope sighed and then smiled softly. "She's been doing remarkably well since she arrived though."

"I'm glad," I nodded and we walked to the next room. 

In this room sat a guy no older than 18 and was wrapped in a blood stained straitjacket with his thick honey blonde hair covering his eyes. The walls were covered in riddles from top to bottom, some scrawled in pen or pencil and others noticeably written in blood. 

WH47 15 17 7H47 N0 M4N W4N75 70 H4V3 8U7 N0 M4N W4N75 70 L053?

4 L4WSU17

1 C0M3 1N 4 L07 0F D1FF3R3N7 51Z35. 50M371M35, 1 DR1P 4 L177L3. 1F Y0U 8L0W M3, 17 F33L5 R34LLY G00D. WH47 4M 1?

4 N053

That one was pretty good, I thought with a barely there quirk of my lips and raise of my brow. "The Riddler I presume?" I said with a glance at Calliope who looked at the room in mild disdain and a small flush in her cheeks. 

"Indeed, Mituna Captor, or the Riddler as he has been dubbed by the media. Like Miss Pyrope he has been diagnosed with severe bipolar disorder and schizophrenia. He also happens to have violent fits often throughout the day and a penchant for homemade explosives," Calliope frowned as Mituna flipped his hair to the side and gave her an exaggerated wink as he licked his lips lustfully. "He is also very...very vulgar."

"Vulgarity is a sign of higher intelligence," I grinned as Mituna made orgasm faces at the window, causing Calliope to sigh and rub her forehead tiredly. 

"It certainly is," she replied as we walked down the hallway passed empty rooms. "I could do without the theatrics though." 

There was one last room in the hallway and it was guarded on either side by 4 burly men with semiautomatic weapons and face maskes. "This is our newest occupant," Calliope said lowly with her shoulders stiff and her face coolly impassive. "This is no record of his past life, so we are without his name. Although he is widely renowned as the Trickster."

Through the glass I could see a man with dark blue hair and pale snow white skin. His eyes shone a mirthful sapphire as he grinned widely at us, his lips bunching up the spiral scars that stretched high up over his cheek bones. 

"Why if it isnt the head of the institution come to see little ole me." Trickster smiled with a voice that rivaled itself at sounding so childlike and sinister at the same time as he slapped his cheeks in mock shock. "And you brought a guest!" His bright blue eyes swept over my for a moment a I fought to keep my hands shoved in my pockets indifferntly instead of crossed over my chest protectively. "Wow if he wasnt so hot I'd say he was a total dork with those shades on. Who wears shades indoors!? LAME!"

Hey, at least im not the guy behind the four inch thick prison glass, I thought to myself as I rolled my eyes at the familiar insult. 

"Trickster, where is your straitjacket?" Calliope asked calm as ever as the Trickster bounced up from his position on the floor to the corner and picked up his discarded restraints. 

"You mean this?" He asked with a wide smile and a small shake of the jacket in question, completely unbuckled with no show of forced exit. "It was hurting my arms so I took it off," he replied as he tossed it back into the corner. "And its terrible for your posture you know. Always hunched over and shit. Do I look like Quasimodo to you?" The Trickster looked and me and fluttered his eyelashes. "Although I would be your Esmeralda any day Mr. Phoebus." I snorted in spite of myself and the Tricksters grin grew wider. "Or maybe I could be your Aladdin and take you to a whole new world."

"Are you seriously trying to pick me up with Disney references?" I asked against my better judgement and the odd look Calliope gave me. 

The Trickster walked up to the glass and held his hand out to me as if I could take it( or that I would even consider taking it to begin with, I reminded myself sharply) "Do you trust me?" He asked with a goofy smile that showed a small overbite that rested on his plump and blood red bottom lip. 

"Not on your life," I sneered and the Trickster chuckled with a slight snort that made me smile slightly. 

"Oh, I like you," he giggled maniacally and opened his eyes wide as he leaned against the glass. "Are you my new doctor? Tell me your my new doctor!"

"He most certainly is not your new doctor," Calliope answered and the Tricksters eyes hardened and his grin grew into a sharp leer. 

"Pray tell, why not Calliope?" He asked and her eyes harden as well.

"Because you already have a doctor assigned to you," Calliope replied icily. "You are a patient. You have no power here."

The Trickster blinked at her for a moment before throwing his head back in with a loud cynical cackle tainted with insanity. "My, if you werent such a bitch I'd find that adorable." The Trickster cooed and Calliopes eyes turned harder still. "I have no power here? Really!? You and I both know this city dances to the beat of my drum."

"Sure it does." Calliope smiled in a patronizing manner. "You control the city from all the way in here."

"You dont believe me," Trickster tisked with a pout and then with a snap of his finger grinned widely. "Okay! Seems a demonstration is in order!" His manic blue orbs focused on my own and I hunched my shoulders slightly and his grin only widened. "You will be my sexy assistant!"

"The hell I will," I grunted and he mock pouted once more. 

"Come now, I cant do my magic trick without my sexy assistant," he whined as I leveled him with a deadpan that rivaled the panic rising inside me. "I just need you to pick a number. Just one number."

I dont know why I played into his scheme, I knew whatever 'magic trick' he had planned couldnt possibly be good, but then again as Calliope had said, he is in there and we're out here. What harm could he really do? "Fine," I huffed rolling my eyes. "Four."

"Four you say!?" Trickster gasped and then looked at the guard to our left with a malicious leer. "Dont you have four children Micheal?"

The stone faced guard paled and looked at Calliope in panic. "Oh yes! Three beautiful little girls and a son who was born 2 months ago," the Trickster leered as the guard took a shuddered breath. "Penelope was so happy to finally have a son wasnt she?"

"Stop it," Michael whispered as sweat began to bead in his forehead. 

"Such a happy family!" The Trickster giggled with wide blue eyes that were wild with mischief. "Michael, I have something to ask you Michael. Will you answer the question for me Micheal?" The guard gulped as he began to shake under the Tricksters intense gaze. "You live in an old wood house dont you Michael?" Micheal's phone started ringing in his pocket and the Tricksters grin grew even wider. "You should have replaced the batteries in the fire alarms like Penelope told you to Michael."

The air stilled as Micheal reached into his pocket and withdrew his cell phone. He looked at Calliope with wide terrified eyes as his finger swiped the phone to answer. 'MICHEAL,' A feminine voice screamed from the phone, 'Oh god! Oh my god! My babies! MY BABIES ARE-' the voice abruptly cut off and a deafening silence ensued broken by the loud cackle the Trickster gave. 

"YOU KILLED MY FAMILY!" The guard growled as he struck the window making the Trickster giggle with dark glee. 

"No sir, I believed You killed your family," the Trickster smiled, his blue eyes seemed to swirl with with an almost hypnotizing fashion as he stood there hands behind his back and mirthful leer stretched wide. 

"Micheal-" Calliope shouted as two of the guards struggled to pull Micheal away from the glass wall. 

"YOU KILLED THEM!" Micheal raved spittle flying from his mouth as he fought. 

"Werent you killing them anyway?" Trickster asked and the guard swore as he broke from his hold and began to pound on the glass. "With your affair, I mean."

Micheal paused, his rage flushed face paling once more and the Trickster chuckled. "You know Penelope drank to forget about your whore," the Trickster whispered and the guard stared dumbstruck at the glass. 

"QUIET TRICKSTER!" Calliope bellowed as the guard shook with hard tremors. 

"You know she just might have had a lover to help her forget," the Trickster said with a profound thoughtfulness. "Candles are as dangerous as they are romantic."

"Its not true." The guard whispered and the Trickster gave and exaggerated cartoonish nod. "You did this."

"No, I didnt," Trickster grinned, sapphire orbs rolling smoothly to bore into Calliope's icy green pair. "I have no power here, remember?"

Calliope turned about face and pulled out her cell phone. "Ms. Paint? The Trickster is to be sedated immediately. Also I want the home of a Micheal Evans checked on as soon as possible," she spoke sharply into the received as she stalked back down the hallway toward the exit. "Come Mr. Strider," she called from about halfway down the hall, "We have paperwork to fill out."

"Damn and I was just starting to have fun," Trickster pouted and I turned, speed walked down the hall after the fuming director. "See you later Mr. Sexy Shades!"

I felt a chilled trickle down my spine at his call and knew deep down that the lil psycho was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. AP homework. That shit. And like other stuff has kept me from updating. Also I had to research a lot of stuff for this chapter. Gotta see where everyone fits and junk like that. I've got it mostly figured out. "Mostly" being a very ambiguous term. So if you have any hero/ villain suggestions I'm open to them. I mean this is just supposed to be a harley quinn(dave strider)/ joker(trickster aka john egbert) fabric but who knows I might try to make it into a whole thing :33 ummmm yeah thats it :33 thanks for reading and kudos!!! Kudos make me smile :33


	6. Why'd it have to be fucking dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School blah blah ap blah blah my boyfriend is sorta being a huge jackass blah blah. All true just sorta stupid and boring from your pov I'm sure. Enjoy ppls!!!

"And then BAM! All the kids are fucking chicken nuggets: crispy all the way through," I said with a crunch of some fries I had thrown into the oven twenty minutes ago.

"As riveting as the imagery of over cooked frozen chicken nuggets is, that was horribly uncouth given recent events, David." Rose sighed through the phone, and I shrugged despite her being unable to see it. 

"I mean, I did my residency like everyone else and ive seen my share of crispy corpses-" I began. 

"Have you, really?" she cut in sarcastically, making me roll my eyes as I got up to throw away my paper plate of only slightly burnt frozen food. 

"Okay, so only one well done cadaver," I grumbled and Rose hummed in acknowledgement. "But thats not the point. The point is that the Trickster is batshit crazy and has some serious powers to boot."

"I distinctly remember you rambling to me once how the word 'crazy' was a derogatory term never to be used again in your presence." Rose drawled through the phone. 

"Well, I'm making an exception for Mister 'I Murder Babies for Fun' Trickster!" I huffed and then rubbed my forehead warily. "Did I mention he's gunning for me to be his doctor?"

"Is he now?" Rose asked, her voice deepening in concern. "And how do you feel about that?"

"Bullshit aside, I'm sorta freaking the fuck out," I muttered rubbing the back of my neck anxiously. "This literal lunatic has gained some sudden infatuation with me and I'm pretty sure if he doesnt get what he wants he's going to murder me, or worse go after you and the rest of the Stri-Lal's."

"I'm touched that you care so much, David," Rose joked, no doubt to hide her own unease at the notion that the Trickster has their family within his sights. 

"Of course I care..." I sighed lowly as I glanced at the clock. 

12:06

Damn, we'd been on the phone for at least 2 hours, I thought rubbing my dry, tired eyes. It had been a long day despite the Asylum tour ending around noon since we still had to fill out mountains of paperwork and give testimonies to the police regarding the murders. Or should I say "murders".

"Its crazy," I muttered quietly giving voice to my thoughts. "He didnt move an inch out that room and yet he burned someones house down from clear across town. And they know it was him too because they found one of his little Trickster cards in the ashes."

"The media has portrayed him as an evil magician of sorts," Rose replied thoughtfully. "He gives real magick users a bad name."

"We dont even really know if he can actually do magick though," I added and yawned. "He has no records at all even though hes been incarcerated at least 5 times in the past year. Everything that gets written down disappears or is replaced with papers full of nonsense. And fuck even using a computer. Calliope was telling me how they and Skaia State Penitentiary were still getting technicolor, seizure inducing, Trickster viruses." 

"It seems you have, yet again, gained the attraction of a problem," Rose sighed with a hint of a smirk. 

"I can't help it if I attract batshit crazy bitches," I frowned and smoothed my hair. "As much fun as it's been talking a snarky broad such as yourself, some of us have a nine to five ta get up for in the morning."

"Oh yes, I do remember the horrors of having such a schedule," the smirk evident in her voice. "I wish you well David and know should you need me, I will be here."

"I know. Thanks Rose," I smiled softly. "Look out for yourself, Roxy and Mom."

"Oh, dont you worry David," Rose drawled mysteriously, "I'm quite sure the Trickster will have little affect on our familys, that is so long as I'm around."

A familiar unease filled my stomach as I caught the sight of 3 crows landing quietly upon my railing of my terrace. As one turned its head, a familiar violet color flashed in its eye as it regarded me with uncanny intelligence. 

Yeah thats one of her fiends, I thought dryly. I really sorta wish she wouldnt use crows though... "Thanks, I guess," I grumbled as Rose laughed and the crow cawed in a similar manner. 

>

Fuck yeah, Starbucks! I thought chugging down my honeycomb frappichino with extra whipped cream. Hell the fuck yes!

"That is the single whitest drink I've ever seen outside a milk bottle," my companion snorted from across the small, round, and impossibly high hipster table. "Ohemgee, you're so fucking lame!!!"

I smirked despite myself and looked up into ocean blue eyes behind square black frames. 

The world whirled for a moment as I fell impossibly deep into those mirthful cerulean orbs. I was filled with just as much terror as I was excitement. 

It was haunting. 

It was thrilling. 

It was-

"Dave?" And the thought was gone. Vanished back into the barest of scratches at the base of my scalp. A ghostly pale hand reached across the table and grabbed my noticeably tanner one. "Dude are you feeling okay?" 

"Yeah," I replied with an easy smile as I studied our clasped hands as if it was the single most intriguing thing I've ever witnessed( and for some reason a deeper part of my consciousness assured me it was). "I'm fine-"

There it was again... I thought as I looked up into the familiar and also startlingly unfamiliar face before me. Its that feeling of not rightness. Like I was on the brink of an important disillusionment. 

And yet, no matter how not right this felt I couldnt dispute the sunny blue eyes and disastrously curly black hair framing a whimsical, almost child like face. I could not deny the person in front of me but for the life of me I couldnt find the name. 

"Dave?" The man questioned me once again, as his brow furrowed and his overbite became more pronounced with his pout. "What's wrong Dave?"

It was maddening! This person was so familiar and so ingrained into my being and I knew this. I knew this about him and us and absolutely nothing else. I could recall no memories-

"Dave."

No instances in which we might have met. 

"Dave!"

No reason for me to harbor this overwhelming, almost artificial, affection for this man before me.

"Dave!!!"

And yet- "What's your name?" I asked, feeling myself ripple and slow. The room flickered and glitched with neon technicolor vibrancy. 

Black hair turned sky blue as unmarred cheeks were pulled upwards with taunt spiral scars. Chunky black glasses became navy wire frames that sat in front of swirling blue irises. 

"Oh, Dave," the tenor voice crooned softly while the world around us faded to black and all that was left was whirling blue orbs and cheshire wide grin. "You'll make a great Hellequin, baby."


	7. Day 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 13  
> 12 days left till the beginning of the end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get into college is hard. Its hard and I wanna cry so here are my tears.

In the gripes of terror riddled panic I startled awake with sweat drenching my white tee and pearly white hair, slickening it in a way that ive been repeatedly told it resembles a baby ducks wet asshole. 

I was so not awake and after years of night terrors and I knew what I supposed to do to relieve that panic clouding my mind but to hell with that right now because fuck is counting going to save my life if a blue haired villain had magicked his way into my apartment. 

"FUCK!" I shouted hoarsely as I flash-stepped from under my sheets to stand katana ready on my bed. 

My crimson eyes scanned to room wildly for the source of the maliciously mirthful laughter that rang loudly in my ears. With my heart in my throat, I turned my attention to the screeching in my window to see Rose's fiends beating at the glass panes franticly with their wings. 

That's probably what actually woke me up from that fucking nightmare,I thoughts dizzily as the adrenaline drained from my limbs leaving me feeling shaky and more tired than I was when I went to sleep. I was in fucking med school dammit. I know how it feels to go without sleep for 56 hours straight living off a prayer and 45 Monsters which was like the eleventh circle of Hell right after elevators and before My Little Pony marathons. The only thing worse than getting no sleep is getting weeks of shitty sleep. 

However I'm ahead of the curve. I've been living off shitty sleep since I was fucking born. 

4:13

Fuuuuuuuuuuucccckkkk, I sighed mentally. You know what, fuck it. "FUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKK," I groaned filling the silence with my sleep deprived voice. "Man, I am not getting back to sleep. Thats fucking great." Another soul suffering sigh. 

Dreaming is your minds way of working through the occurrences and stress of day to day life. When we're sleep the brain takes its sweet time fulling analizing and synthesizing the data from our memories. The brain also takes this time to shift through that folder labeled NOPE in red letters that you avoid throughout your day. 

Everyone has a NOPE file. Its the shit we dont wanna think about. Memories best forgotten and unwanted. Problem with that is you literally can't unsee shit that youve seen, so as human beings we push that shit to the back and do our best not to actively think about it. But sometimes things go in the NOPE file that, no matter how much we dont wanna fuck with it, the shit demands attention and goddammit it will have it. 

Thus nightmares. Which, you know, is sorta a shitty way for your mind to deal with something you consciously dont wanna fuck with. 

And I sure as fuck didnt wanna dream about that technicolor loon, I thought feeling the tiredness in my bones weigh me down and making me lean against my headboard and slowly slid down the ebony wood as I dropped the katana on the floor beside the bed. Man, what the absolute fuck. Ive never had a honeycomb frappichino in my fucking life...Okay maybe thats a lie. Like a huge lie. Like fuck, if my first love wasnt apple juice it would be that beautiful snow white perfection of cavities incarnated. 

But whatever! Thats not even that important. What's important is I can just sit here paranoid for the next 3 hours waiting to get ready for my job which, surprise surfuckingprise, I'm rapidly losing my shit over. 

Only one thing to do. 

Mix and remix till the sun fistpounds its way into the sky thanks to my godly beats. 

With a stretch that sounded way too many cracks and snaps to my ears for comfort, I stood and paddled out ny bedroom to stand in my not-so-shitty living room where in the middle stood my hella bad personal DJ setup. 

"Damn, you look fine," I cooed to the tables and mixer that began to glow as I switched it on and I ran my fingers over cool to the touch dials lovingly. "Only you could make me so weak in the knees lovely and I know you missed me." I smirked, putting on my noise cancelling headphones. "Let's make beautiful music together."

I felt the music permeate my ears and strike my soul with a delicious wave of ecstasy. This, I thought as a rare wide smile graced my lips, is where my heart lives. 

The joy that filled my started at my long pale toes and climbed up the length of my tall lean body all the way up the crown of my head. 

All the way, that is, except for one spot. And in that one spot that was riddled with icy unease was a single looping thought. 

What the fuck is a Hellequin?


	8. Its a new dawn Its a new day  Its a new life for me And I'm feeling shitty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ugghhhh coworkers

"Dr Strider, it good to see you this morning!" Calliope called as she strolled from down the long hallway where her office resided. In her arms were three thick files, almost sure to be patient information, which are almost certainly mine. Yay. "I'm glad yesterdays incident didnt deter you from working in our facilities."

"I'm a Strider, Miss English. It'll take more than that to keep me from doing my job." I smiled professionally as I lied through my teeth. If I coulda found a reason not to come to work today I woulda. God only knows I would have, but I actually sorta NEED this job financially and also sorta socially. 

I can't keep living off of Momlonde and Bro when everyone else is doing their own damn thing and doing it hella well. Like fuck, Roxy has her own fucking vineyard and makes her own damn wine, which is pretty fucking good to be honest. Dirk is a magick mechanical wonder that can do everything from hacking government shit to building sentient life. Rose has her books and dabbles in journalism under a different alias. Bro has his puppet porn empire of pain and Mom is a fucking genius scientist touring all over the damn place like it ain't shit. 

What is baby Dave? A decentish DJ? No no no, I need an actual job that I can at least pretend is as amazing as the rest of my family's. Fuck, I really dont wanna be the deadbeat relative. I dont even have a relationship to flutter in their faces. 

At least Dirk and I are equal in that department. 

So here I am, in this supernatural looney bin, putting myself in the fucked up situation of possibly getting my family killed by a blue haired psychopath. Fuck, now I feel shitty because I'm making jokes about mental disease which is pretty dickish of me since I'm a doctor and all. I donno maybe it doesnt count because I'm pretty sure just calling them crazy when theyre like legit crazy is okay but if theyre schizophrenic or have Dissociative Identity Disorder, Then making jokes like that would be pretty shitty of me. But mayb-

"Dr. Stider did you hear me?" Calliope asked as we paused in front of what appeared to be the staff dinning room. 

Fuck, I zoned out again, I thought with an internal cringe. Eh, fuck it. "I'm sorry, Miss English, I'm just a bit nervous meeting my new coworkers is all," I said with a nervous smile that didnt have shit on the anxiety I really felt. 

I didnt even think about coworkers until the words tumbled out my mouth, which is actually really fucking dumb of me considering, hello!!! new fucking job ie new coworkers or COWORKERS period something I havent really had to deal with ever since this is my first "adult" job with a paycheck on paycheck paper. Shit, I gotta meet all these new people and uggghhh I'm gonna be the youngest doctor here so Someone is bound to give me shit and ugggghhhhhhh I wanna go home-

"Oh, hush you!" Calliope admonished sweetly, cutting off my internal rant of ever growing anxiety. "Like I assured you yesterday, at English we like to treat one another like family! And what did I tell you about that Miss English nonsense!"

"Haha right! I'm sorry Calliope. I'll remember from now on," I chuckled aloud while inside my thoughts wandered to her forcing the "family" shitck. If this is a fucking family I'm probably just lucky enough to land the title of Red Headed Stepchild. Joy. 

"You'd better!" She grinned over her shoulder as she turned and opened the grand mahogany doors to reveal 9 out however the fuck many brand new coworkers. 

Let the fun(hell) begin!

Sitting by himself, typing away ruthlessly at a laptop was a skinny lanky sort of fellow with dirty blonde hair and Heterochromia. Just looking at the dude I could tell he didnt wanna fuck with anyone which suited me just fine. One less potential problem. At a table not to far away sat a brown skinned man with thick black hair who went on and on about how to correctly deal with a patient diagnosed with bipolar disorder. As he spoke a woman with eyes a shade darker than Roxy's nodded politely when the jabber jaw doctor looked her way as she steadily continued her tuna salad. On the other side of the ranting doctor sat a woman with tan skin, crimson red hair(which appeared to be natural if her eyebrows and roots told the tale) and large verdant eyes behind even larger circular spectacles on her freckle riddled nose. Lounging by the vending machines was a woman with short black hair and in a navy blue dress and pointed red glasses and a another woman with long dreads and a wicked smile on her fushia lips. Talking with them was an older black guy also with dreads that, I shit you not, was literally 8 feet tall and to add to that height he was at least 3 and a half feet wide and it was all muscle. This fucker didnt even look like they Made clothes for him, and yet here he was in a three piece blue pinstripe suit. A ways over from them, busying herself with the coffee machine as she hummed a nameless tune was a plump pale woman in a blue and green dress shirt and sunny yellow pencil skirt. 

When she looked up and saw Calliope she gave a warm grandmotherly smile. "Oh look! Callie brought the new doctor," she said sweetly bring unwanted attention immediately to me. Fuck. Me.

Calliope smiled in turn and gesturing to me she addressed the room. "This is doctor Dave Strider. He will be here Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays."

"You finally found someone to do Sundays in this hell hole, huh," the blonde guy lisped under his breath just quiet enough that Calliope could have let it go if motor mouth over yander didnt have the hearing of an irate lap dog. 

"Really, Captor we have a constitutional right as american citizens to have our Sundays work free." The man huffed with irritation as the blonde signed deeply and rolled his eyes. "However it is also our right to work if we shall chose to on Sundays due to the fact that not everyone is of Christian denomination making Sunday an irrelevant day of the week, However-"

"Dave did you want to work on Sundays?" Calliope interrupted with a kind smile.

"Yep," I replied with a nod. Hell yeah I'll work on a Sunday if that means I only have a 4 day work week. Although in this place it might not be worth it. 

"See Kankri, there is nothing to worry about," Calliope said neutrally, soothing the social justice rebel without a cause who just huffed and crossed his arms. 

"Nufin, cept that bruised ego a his," the woman with dreads cackled. 

"Uh, maybe we use our people skills and um not fight this morning," said a guy from way WAY in the corner away from the rest of the group. Like so far away I didnt even know he was here. Maybe it was the literal mountain of paperwork on his table that made him distance himself from his coworkers. That or it was the big ass bird attached to him. 

On his shoulder was a cockatoo with its head feathers bristles to all fuck. "Youre giving Tinkerbull anxiety," he frowned as he tried to calm down the the bird which started stuttering "uh, um, no, stop" over and over in rapid succession. 

"Nitram for you to label your cockatoo with an anxiety disorder without a proper analytical examination is rather ablest." Kankri ranted and holy fuck this guy is just...so... annoying. 

The guy named Nitram( first or last name I couldnt tell ya, but I feel sorry for him regardless with a name like that) looked Kankri dead in the face with the most damning and irritated expression ive ever seen, which is saying something considering I'm a Stri-Lo. "May I remind you I have a veterinary Ph.D on top of my psychology masters," he snapped lowly, causing the bird to grow even more frantic. "If I say Tinkerbull has anxiety, I'm pretty damn sure I'm certified enough to say she has anxiety."

"Language, Nitram," the tall old man said in a voice lower than Morgan Freemans and at least 6 times more intimidating. 

"Ooooiii drag 'em T," the woman with dreads sneered as the black haired woman shook her head with distasteful irritation. Dr. Nitram rolled his eyes and frowned as ge went about calming his bird that feigned sobbing noises along with its "no"s and "please dont fight"s.

"Peixes," Calliope sighed and the woman eating the tuna salad swallowed roughly with a cough before gulping down her bottled water. 

"Yes!?" she asked and Calliope rubbed at her forehead. 

"Not you, Fancie," she answered. "Sometimes I forget you and Meenah are related..."

"Not blood though," the Peixes with dreads commented. "Nah the gill gotta earn the Peixes name. Just having pink eyes ain't gonna cut it."

"So I gotta be a mouthy shellfish, asshoal like you to be a Peixes, huh?" Fancie snapped and Meenahs face twisted into a nasty glare. 

"What you say ta me beach?" She growled as the black haired woman took firm hold of her lab coat in exasperation.

"Can't we all just be professional for once?" She asked her seething coworker. 

"That little beach started it!" Meenah snapped in defense as Fancie gave a dainty huff and turned back to her food. 

"Well, I am ending it," Calliope stated tightly with her jaw fixed tight. "Really youre going to scare Dave away," if only it were that fucking easy, I thought wistfully. Damn social obligations. "We've all been together so long we're practically family!"

"A disfunctional family!" The red head snorted with a big grin and Calliope smiled in spite of the playful dig.

"I suppose youre right Jade," she chuckled. "Anyway, Dave will be taking on three of your patients so as to lighten your, Dr. Cavall's and Dr. Agents load in the maximum security building. This will also give you the chance to do outdoor group therapy with the resident patients like you requested. "

Jade clapped her hands together in joy as she grinned widely, showing off large, rounded rabbit like teeth which to be honest were adorable as all get out. "YAY! I cant wait to start my garden," she gushed as she stood up to walk to us. Its at this point that I realized that Jade is a big woman. Like at least 6 foot 6 which made her like a foot taller than me. As Bro would say, shes a tall drink of Fanta with a coke bottle figure. And just as bubbly too, I thought as she reached forward to shake my hand enthusiastically with the death gripe of a thousand bear traps. Dear god, shes a fucking Amazon. "I know it doesnt seem like it but we really are grateful to have you here Dave and if you have any questions dont hesitate to ask me," she grinned so hard her eyes wrinkled at the sides as they closed with her smile. "I'll be sure to help you anyway I can!"   
"Cool," I grinned back, feeling a little annoyed that I had to look Up at her but then again I like my people tall. Fuck dont think that, shes like my brand new coworker I can't have a crush on her! And yet- "Since I'm getting your old patients would you mind going over the files with me?"

The Amazonian woman laughed as took the files from Calliope, who steped away soon after to quell another argument, and looped her arm through mine. "Of course! Just so long as we can do it outside in the courtyard. Its such a beautiful day and the sun is all bright and shiny!"

"Why go outside and fuck with that artificial government sun when you have your very own Apollo right here?" I smirked, making her snort giggle as we left the staff dining room and headed outside. 

"Haha! Sorry to disappoint but I dont see you shining and warming my skin anytime soon," Jade laughed and squeezed my arm. "You know something Dave?"

"That I am a beautiful sun goddess with magnificent hair," I deadpanned making her snort giggle some more. Its official. Thats fucking adorable.   
"Sure Dave, if that makes you happy then embrace your inner goddess," she grinned down at me. "But more importantly, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship!"

"Ya know Jade ,I think youre right," I smiled back. 

Maybe working here won't be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very soon I'm gonna write an explanation for the random people(trolls) but for right now just know that there are 3-4 trolls for all the cannon beta trolls for example there are the Vantas which is the Sufferer(named Karkat cause yeah) then Karter( which is more Karkat personality wise) then Kankri(who is fucking kankri) and there might be another depending on whether or not I wanna go two Robins deep in this bitch. In anycase the multiples are more for personality rather than connection. I will let you all know who is and is not related if it isnt explicitly said in the story( see meenah and fancie for example) 
> 
> This story is still unbetaed. If anyone wants to take a crack at helping a sista out hit me up!
> 
> In other news my mouth hurts. Dont wait till your 18 to get mouth stuff like braces and invisilign done and I shit you not they both hurt the same. 
> 
> Thank you for all your awesome comments and kudos!!!! I think about y'all on the daily and it give me motivation to keep it moving. 
> 
> Many blessing!!!!


	9. Ama no Uzumi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy homestuck day. I'll try and have the next chapter up in a few days to a week. No promises though :((

After a completely productive( hahaha) morning with Jade, who I have come to lovingly referring to as Red, it was time to have my first session with one of my new patients. 

I got this. I'm cool as- no fuck that- cooler Than mother fucking ice god dammit. Imma walk in slick as fuck and do the damn thing and do it Well! I can totally do this, like, I was Born for this shit! I went to school and worked my ass off. I. Got. This.

Totally not hyping myself up so I dont puke, I walked down the creepy white on white hallway to where my first patient was housed. 

Interestingly enough this patient was in one of the few above ground cells of the maximum security building. Not many patients can be above ground but due to their particular... affliction.

Fucking Rose and her flowery wording bullshit.

After thoroughly cussing out my beloved sister in my head,( it still counts as verbally doing it, cause I'm sure some way, some how, that beautiful cow can hear me in my own damn head right now) I found myself in front of my first patient's door.

A-Medigo patient 0321-0419  
Final diagnosis: Cotard delusion, obsessive compulsive disorder,  
Ability: clairvoyance 87/13

Fuck, I cussed mentally, looking at the unfamiliar documentation in hazy confusion. Okay, Red explained all of this...I think she did anyway. Fuck, I really dont wanna walk in there and get my ass killed that would suck. Ugggghhhh okay okay.... I thought back to what Red said and after a moment the jumble of words and numbers began to take on the semi-balance of a comprehensive thought in my mind. 

I focused on the last update note dated for two days previous.

0518: 2hr session. Displayed signs of melancholy and paranoia before regressing back to a catatonic state. Med: Risperidone, dosage reduce by 100mg UFN

I nodded to myself as my hand reached for the door handle and put my Strider patented pokerface on to remain professional despite my nerves.

The door opened up to a white room with no windows( no matter how low risk certain patients are they're in a maximum security building for a fucking reason) and the low steady beating of a heart rate monitor hooked up to a japanese woman so pale she seemed translucent against the white sheets of her bed. Her onyx hair, which was almost obscenely long and wavy, cascaded down her proper up pillow like spilled ink. Save for the monitors, the only spot of color in the room came from her eyes that radiated a small muted light despite their deep burgundy tone.

It was those wine colored eyes that followed my movements languidly as I sat in the white painted metal chair that was bolted to the floor three feet from the bed.

"Hello, my name is-," I began, keeping my tone welcoming with a neutral undertone.

"Hello, Dave." She spoke in a steady, aloof tone void of all emotion.

Clairvoyance, I thought, mentally face palming. Right, fuck. New tactic. "Hello, Miss Medigo," I smiled calmly, going with a nonplussed attitude to remain in control if the situation. "Or should I call you Aradia?" With a small glance at the file in my hands before training my eyes on her to watch for a reaction. "Maybe you would prefer to be called Ama No Uzumi."

Aradia continued to stare into my shades expressionlessly before her eyelids and mouth twitched for a millisecond. To anyone else it wouldnt even have been enough to be considered a facial tic, but after living with the two most stoic individuals on the planet I could spot it for what it really was: a microscopic smirk.

"You can call me whatever you like Dr. Strider," Aradia replied quietly as her eyes wandered away from my eyes to rest on the door. "We will be getting to know each other quite well from now on."

"Thats right, because, as I'm sure you can tell, I am your new doctor," I nodded as I shuffled my file so it was underneath my notepad.

"Yes, I suppose that will be part of it too, the reason we become so close." Aradia continued, making me pause in my pursuit of a red pen.

"Really? Would you like to elaborate on that Aradia?" I questioned in a steady voice as I made notes on the paper in front of me while the sirens in my brain blared 'GET THE FUCK OUT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD'

Her eyes fluttered once before finding their way back to my shades and locking uncannily with my own scarlet orbs. "In due time Dr. Strider," she answered as her lids fluttered closed pensively. "How is my sister doing?"

Sister? I thought, momentarily forgetting the dark implications Aradia had alluded to at the mention of a sibling, my fingers itching to look through her file. She has a sister? Should I, like, write this down? I'm gonna write it down. "I'm new to the facility, so I haven't seen too many patients," I replied jotting down the note of a possible recorded or undocumented sibling. "Would you like to tell me about her? Maybe her name?"

Aradia took a deep, exhausted breath that seemed to convey not only a great deal of sadness but irritation and worry as well. "She has been hurt....and soon she will hurt everyone else." Her eyes opened with a distant look of mild concentration as she focused on the door once more; as if her wayward sibling would come through that door at any moment. 

Frankly, the notion was terrifying to say the least, especially considering I can't bring a katana to work so I'm basically assed out if a patient makes a break for it.

"Who hurt her? Did you hurt her?" I asked my hand doing its own little version of flashstepping as it moved across the page leaving bright red ink in its wake.

"I suppose, in an abstract sense, I have hurt her," Aradia answered, her head cocked slightly to the left in thought. "However, that was far too long ago. No, I didnt cause this in her, but who is to blame doesnt matter."

"Why not?" I asked, dread creeping down my spine.

"They're already dead now." Aradia nodded and a flash of a demented smile graced her lips at the words, but only for a second, before her expression fell back into its distant pensive state. The too wide leer was painted on my eyelids and I didnt dare look away for fear that the demonic gaze would focus on me instead of a distant Time. "But thats not important. What is important is that she is changing, not for the better, but changing nonetheless. I am sure you will see her soon, but do not judge her too harshly." Aradia's eyes focused on me once again and I felt exposed in the worst way; an exposure that said the one gazing at you knew you better than you knew yourself, and that is never a good feeling to have in an asylum. Or really anywhere else now that I think about it.

"I am a doctor Aradia, my job is to help you, and patients like you, cope with your illnesses and help you reenter society."

"Why would I want to be out there?" Her asked almost disturbed by the notion of leaving the asylum. "No. No, I am content to watch the world burn from right here." I opened my mouth to speak, but her eyes cut across to me so sharply that any utterance was swallowed back down into my rapidly churning stomach. "You know my sister. And you will come to know her even better." She paused for a moment, her face shadowed with melancholy and worry. "You two share...circumstances, or at least, you will share even more circumstances than before."

"What circumstances?" I asked, silently cursing myself for the mild hint of desperation that leaked through despite my efforts to keep professional. Who am I kidding, I'm freaking the fuck out! I dont want to share 'circumstances' with someone who is going to 'hurt everyone else'. I'm not down with that! AT ALL! And ordinarily the ramblings of a patient wouldnt phase my carefully crafted professional bedside manner but there was one thing that shook my foundation of solidarity in the face of this "insanity".

87/13

Out of 100 cases of clairvoyance she was notable correct 87% time. Times backed by extensive research and documentation. 

With a ratio percentage of over three quarters and startlingly near 100, it was hard to just ignore her tauntings and wise whisperings. 

It didnt help that the 13 times her predictions didnt come true were due to her own intervention and at a high price.

After all, it was the great Maid of Time that lead the Crimson Knight to the Trickster of Skaia to stop his Killing Joke. 

She is ultimately reason why the Trickster is here.

Seeming to sense my internal panic, Aradia sighed once more, this time in exasperation. "You were so much more interesting when you were dying," she muttered and my hand started to shake as my nightmare flashed across my unblinking eyes. My cadaver riddled with bullets, stabbed through my chest and abdomen, my throat slit from ear to ear blood leaking down the front of a lime green suit; all these visions raced through my mind and the wounds began to itch and burn as if relived and I had to resist the urge to rip of my clothes to view the scars that aren't there and never have been there.

Right?

Fuck I gotta get out of here, I thought rising shakily to my feet with an audible gulp. "It was nice meeting you, Aradia," I heard my voice say calmly as I felt myself slowly start to shut down. Help, a voice so quiet, yet so loud, seemed to echo in my mind. Help. I cant breathe. I'm scared. Help. Time seemed to crawl to a near stop and the feeling of the walls closing in and trapping me here was growing stronger and stronger by the eternal second. "I am beginning to feel unwell, so we will have to cut today's session short."

"Dont go home, Dave," she commanded as I turned my back on her and began walking toward the door that seemed to stretch out too far in front of me as my vision began to tunnel. Fuck gotta get out gotta no more have to get out I'm scared fuck fuck fuck gotta- My slippery hand found the door handle and an icy, translucent hand covered it. "Dave," Aradia whispered in my ear with breath like frost. "Don't go home. You have to stay."

My breath caught in my throat and I could barely whisper the small plea to just be allowed to leave the fucking room. I'll stay the afternoon just let me get the fuck out of here GOD!

Whether I was able to voice the plea or not, I dont know but a second later the icy was gone and I could move once more. I pulled down the handle and stepped out into the hallway to safety.

"See you later, Hellequin," she voice slithered hushly to my ears to chill my brain.


	10. Skipping Beats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been going through a lot with college starting soon and ending my senior year and such. I'll try and update religiously but I'm in a rigorous art program so we'll see how that shit goes. Also this chapter will likely be reuploaded later this weekend with pictures :33 look forward to that shit man!!!  
> Enjoy!!!

After the little encounter with the famed Maid of Time, I decided that apple juice was in order. Lots and lots of Mott's apple juice. 

  
(I totally didn't sit in the staff bathroom for 30 minutes hyperventilating with the world spinning around me and shaking in my own personal earthquake.  _ Don't think about it. It's not real, _ I thought as I checked my body over for scars that don't and have never, existed[maybe they did I just don't remember.  _ Maybe I should check again. Maybe I missed them. M a y b e-] _ …)   
  
It was nearing lunch time anyway, and since doctors here get a nice little hour and a half lunch break, I thought I might scope out Red and see if she wanted to have a lunch at this awesome diner in The Battle Field. It's still light out so it should be safe to venture into that part of the hood.   
  
The Battle Field was the name given the the neighborhood surrounding English Asylum grounds. English itself was on a sort of barely connected peninsula just off of Skaia, not to mention it was neighbors with Blackgate Maximum Security State Penitentiary, which was only 25 miles away on a 40 mile length Island. Big bodies like that did not breed model citizens; at least not with the warring Crocker and Pexises mafia families. But that's a whole  **nuther** can of bullshit.   
  
"Mr. Strider!" A relaxed voice called out to me as I fed my dollar into the drink machine for my sweet sweet appley goodness being cruelly kept from me by the glass.   
  
A full turn of my head revealed my old professor Dr. Scratch.    
  
Scratch was a pale, long fellow and bald as a billiard cue ball with eyes a watery, cloudy blue. His blinding whiteness was only enhances by his peculiar habit of dressing in sharp, dark colors drowned in even more white garments which gave his skin an almost shining parlor. Today he was in a forest green dress shirt with a white vest and bowtie accompanied by bone white slacks.    
  
The man had a reputation for being unnerving, what with his his penetrating and analytical gaze  coupled with his unendingly even and (probably purposefully) hypnotic tone of voice, he was very unnerving to many if his students. I was indifferent to his demeanor for no other reason than his odd quirks were possessed by someone in my own bloodline in one form or another.   
  
Despite his all knowing and superior elitist way of speaking, he wasn't a bad dude but his general air keep many student from even asking him for a recommendation, but those who could tough it out and kiss ass made it and made out  **well** with his name on their resume. Hell, remaining unphased to his person is what got  **me** this job.    
  
Whether I should be thanking him or cursing his existence remains to be seen.   
  
"It's  **Doctor** Strider now, Doc." I smirked as I stretched out my hand to meet his own in a strong handshake. "How have you been? School hasn't started back up again yet, right?"   
  
"Come now Strider, you have not been out of school but a few months," Dr.Scratch chidded in a tone I took to be joking, but without corresponding facial expressions I honestly couldn't tell. "Classes don't start till the end of August." He paused for a moment and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "However, I suppose classes won't be starting for  **me** at all this year."   
  
My brows raised in mild shock at the professor's admission. "Is that so?" I asked with a sight tilt of my head. "Why might that be, if you don't mind my asking? Did you get fired or something."   
  
There was a brief moment in which Scratch 's already cold blue eyes turned frigid with barely suppressed rage, but in the time it would have taken to blink, the expression was gone and he was once more an emotionless mask. An ordinary person might have missed the small slip, but I'm not ordinary and I didn't miss a damn thing.    
  
"No no, nothing like that," he replied waving the notion off. "The board of director's for the psychology department and I had a minor disagreement and I decided to take a small sabbatical from the teaching profession."    
  
_ Yeah, his ass got hella fired _ , I thought with an understanding nod. "It's good to take a break now and then," I commented and noted how he eyed me analytically. "What brings you to English then?"   
  
"I am good acquaintances with the English family and have requested they allow me to use their facility to conduct research." Scratch replied, his gaze piercing me unwaveringly.   
  
My body nodded in my stead but I mentally gave pause as an unease crept up my spine at his words. "What kind of research," I asked with false interest out of politeness.    
  
"Phobias," he replied with an eerie smile that made it hard to keep my poker face intact as I felt my stomach fall to my shoes and sweat bead on the back of my neck. "And the effects of fear on the human psyche as a whole and what short term and long term consequences it may indicate." His icy blue eyes bore into me, meticulously trying to pick apart my poker face that I could just feel beginning to crack along with my inner composure.    
  
"Well, uh, I hope your research goes-," I said with a tight smile as I began to edge around the old man to be on my merry mutherfucking way.    
  
Just as I was almost passed, a weight fell on my shoulder freezing me in place. "If I recall correctly, you suffered the effect of fear toxin via the notorious villain Cueball, did you not?"   
  
I stared down at my black Kenneth Cole oxfords and watched as the ground opened up under me. Below was a world of lava and clockwork where the screams of my brothers and sisters rang out in startling clarity. The sweat the began to bead at my temples and hairline felt more like blood as it dripped, dripped, d r i p p ed...   
  
_ I can't breathe. I don't want to be here. I dont wanna talk about this. Not today, please, any other day but not today. Please don't do this _ , my thoughts began to jumble and stumble into an incoherent mess between my ears as the panic attack began to take me in its hold.   
  
Someone.   
Anyone.   
**_Please_ **   
**_P_ ** ****__  
**_L_ ** ****__  
**_E_ ** ****__  
**_A_ ** ****__  
**_S_ ** ****__  
**_E_ **   
  
"Dr.Scratch," a thick japanese accent called out, drawing me from my daymares. "We have to go. Now."    
  
My eyes fluttered rapidly as I tried to regain my composure and find my footing in the real world away from magma and cogs. Once focused, I found I was face to face to face with a japanese woman in a lime-green knee length qipao and emerald flats. Her hair, which I could only assume to be quite a length by the size of her bun, was tied up on top of her head and held in place with two green chopsticks. But the most captivating thing about her was her eyes, which were no more than two shades darker than my own and backlit with an emotion that, with my 6 years of education, I couldn't place for the life of me but felt reflected so deeply in my own soul, it made me feel deeply unnerved.    
  
"Ah, you are correct, Damara," Scratch conceded, lifting his damning weight of a hand off my shoulder. "We must be off if we are to reach our engagement in a timely fashion." Scratches voice drifted as he walked down the opposite end of the hallway. "I look forward to seeing you again soon...Dr. Strider..." Though I could no longer see the doctor, I could feel the stretched maw of a many toothed leer radiate into my back at his words and if I wasn't a Strider I would have shuddered in his wake.   
  
Instead I kept my gaze forward and locked onto Damara, who I could only assume to be his assistant. She gazed back just as intently, whatever inner monologue she had running seemed to find a satisfying focal point in my shades.    
  
"Stay away from Scratch," she murmured as she slipped by, near silent to my own well trained ears.    
  
She didn't have to tell me twice, I thought to myself as I walked away from the staff dining area, hands empty of appley reprieve and head full of fucked up.   
  
Ya know, I suddenly didn't want to finish out the day (who am I kidding, I didn't even want to start the fucking day) and I would hightail it out of there in a heartbeat if it weren't for the Maidens fucker up warning(read threat).    
  
'Don't go home, Dave... You have to stay...' A chill ran through me as her words seeped into my brain like ice water.    
  
I paused in a patch of warmth granted by the large bay windows that looked out into the verdant forest surrounding the facility.    
  
After a quick glance around to make sure no orderlies or doctors were near, I crouched down and rubbed my face feeling wave after wave of exhaustion crash over me. The first wave was the night of shitty sleep courtesy of the Trickster, then it was the past month about worrying over getting a job and not being the failure fuck up of my family, next came the year of near death that was finishing up a M.D. and the final, near damning, wave was the Years of shitty sleep cursed upon him by some shitty mad scientist with a fear boner the size of Eurasia.    
  
Ugghhhh I wanna go home, I wanna go Home, I wanna GO HOME!!! FUCK! Ugghh, oh my God I don't think I can do this. Maybe being a psychiatrist was a bad idea considering my history, but I'm in too deep( about a quarter of a million dollars too deep) to just back out now. Plus, fucked as it was, this is literally the best gig in the country. Like, no joke, people would murder for my job that I'm damn near considering quitting. And why exactly am I(  **Strongly** considering) quitting again?    
  
Cause one of my patients who happen to be clairvoyant told me I was gonna go down the same path as her murderer sister? Because my creepy old professor is trying to mind rape me about my childhood trauma to further his research? Because-    
  
"Dave?"   
  
My head snapped up to see Red standing over me, buck teeth peaking out slightly between plump down turned lips as she eyed my near fetal position on concern.    
  
I smoothly stood up, face apathetic as ever, to regard her calmly. "Sup," I answered with a nod of my head as she continued to look down at me with worried green eyes.    
  
"Dave why where you squatting down with your head in your hands?" She asked with her brow furrowed.    
  
"I was tying my shoes," I answered swiftly.    
  
"No, you weren't," she said brow furrowing ever still. "You've been crouching like that for like 10 minutes. And why would you cover your eyes to tie your shoes?"   
  
"Well, my shoes were shy, being indecent with their laces all wildin' out and shit, so I was tying them with my eyes closed. For privacy reasons." I replied, face stoic as shit in light of my own ridiculousness.    
  
"Dumb as that sounds, I would almost be willing to let it slide, but your hands were over your eyes Dave!" Red giggled as she crossed her arms. "You can't tie your shoes without using your hands, silly!"   
  
"You can't?"   
  
"No."   
  
"Are your sure?"   
  
"Yes!"   
  
"Really?"   
  
"Dave!!!" She snort-giggled as she tried and failed to reprimand me.   
  
"Red!!!" I mocked, trying pretty (un)successfully to mimic her bubbly yet oddly low and sensual tone of voice.    
  
Red shook her head as grabbed my hand and walked away. "Come on ya weirdo, we're already sorta late!" She huffed as started walking down a hallway that, surprise surprise, I've never been down before.   
  
"Is this some white rabbit bullshit? Late for what?" I groused as I walk-jogged to maintain semi-even pace with the leggy auburn.   
  
Red stopped and furrowed her brow as she looked down at me in confusion. "You don't know?" She asked with a frown.   
  
"Uhhhh no. Uh no. Not at all. No dice, babe." I rambled until suddenly  Jade face flushed with angry as she glared down at me, causing me to take three safety steps away.    
  
Have I mentioned she's bigger than me? I may have forgotten to mention she like WAY bigger than me. And built like a willowy oak tree to boot. Nope nope. Fix it! Fix It!!!   
  
"Listen Dave, I really like you and I think you're pretty cool, but don't you  **Ever** call me babe again!" She said lowly to which I nodded vigorously.   
  
"Sorry! I meant no offense at all Dr.Harley. It's just the way I talk, you know, with the slang and all, but I didn't mean to make you feel any type of sexualized at all by it. Not that you're not gorgeous or anything, you're like super gorgeous! But I have called both my brothers gorgeous but only ironically. Not so say they aren't attractive cause Strider's are hot as shit but-," my hole-digging ramble was cut short by a loud giggle snort that racked Red's body as she hugged herself in her laughing fit.   
  
"I get it, dude, don't worry about it," she said with a small smile. "I don't really think you meant any harm. That sorta thing really bugs me is all."   
  
"It won't happen again." I nodded gravely with one hand over my heart and the other up in swear as we started walking once more. "Now, if you would be so kind as to explain what the hurry is?"   
  
Red opened her mouth to reply just as the intercom system come to life above us with the voice of the plump old woman from this morning named Ms. Paint.   
  
"Doctor Strider and Doctor Harley your presence is requested in meeting room Alpha as soon as conveniently possible." She said in a tone that sounded like an attempt to be stern but could carry enough irritation to deliver the shame.   
  
"Are we being called the the principal office?" I muttered to myself as I shuffled along beside Red.   
  
"Nah, we're not in trouble for anything," she chuckled as we reached a turn off of meeting rooms with weird symbols above the doors in various colors and one circular inverted flower looking symbol in florescent lime green paint, which looked a little weird considering the hallway was a deep forest green all the way down. "Calliope just replaced all the pagers yesterday due to a malfunction. We usually don't use the intercom system for anything but emergencies." Red paused in front of a pair of large double doors in the middle of the hall that had a green house broken up into six shapes. "This is it!"    
  
We opened the doors to see what seemed to be like every doctor the hospital had on staff and the head of nursing staff all seat at a long cherry wood table with Calliope sitting at the head.    
  
"Please have a seat so we may get started," Calliope called in a tense manner as Red and I ducked into the room and found a pair of seats close but not too close to the other end of the table.   
  
As we sat Calliope stood to address the room. "Thank you all for adjusting your schedules to be here-"   
  
"Like we had a choice," the lispy blond from earlier muttered under his breath. "This shit was mandatory! Dont I have enough to deal with regarding that loon as it is!?"   
  
"This is still more important!" Calliope frowned sternly, making Sollux huff and continue hammer away at his computer with the ferociousness of a swarm of angry bees. "As you all must know by now the Trickster has been taken into custody here at English." Calliope paused as the room remained dead quiet with the varying looks of concern, fear, and hatred on the staff members faces. "All records, written, recorded, or otherwise, end up disturbed and unusable. The only sure records were able to keep are eyewitness accounts, which is one reason for why I have gathered you all here today." While she spoke, a screen began to come down from the ceiling as a projector turned on. The projector showed an empty white room with a desk occupied by Kankri, who sat with a neutral expression and his hands clasped in front of him on the desk. "The other reason for your presence is to help analyze and diagnose the Trickster for his upcoming trial in nine months."    
  
The sound of a door opening made the room tense as the Trickster, bound head-to-toe in restraints and armed guards at his side's, entered from the other side of the screen.   
  
"What's up, Doc?" The Trickster grinned widely at Kankri, who opened his mouth to reply, only for the Trickster to interrupt him as he turned to the camera and smiled even wider. "Hello all you doctors out there in TV Land!" His eyes became a touch hooded and his smile relaxed from its manic leer into something almost kind. "Hello,  **_especially_ ** to you, Dave."   
  
Fear began to fill me as I hunched down slightly from the curious stares of my co-workers.   
  
I should have gone home.   
  
Fuck even that, I shouldn't have come in to work today.   
  
As I gazed headlong into the Tricksters technicolor ringed eyes of blue I began to hear a ticking somewhere deep in my soul.   
  
It was counting down.   
  
To what, I'm terrified to know.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	11. Kankri VS Trickster

"Please, Mr. Trickster, ignore the camera," Kankri said trying to maintain control of the season before it inevitable spiraled into madness. "It's only there for documentation purposes anyway." It was the lie Calliope had told him to tell, but it seems the directors ruse was up before it even began. Nonetheless, Kankri fed the villain the lie, if for no other reason than to keep the Trickster from turning his session into a performance, something he was likely to do given his typical MO.   
  
"And speaking of Dave," the Trickster began, turning his swirling sapphire gaze upon the unimpressive looking Middle Eastern man. "Why isn't he here? I thought the little girl and I had an  **understanding** after yesterday's, uh,  **festivities** ."    
  
"Well, you thought wrong." Kankri stated simply, causing the Trickster to sigh and look up at the ceiling in mourning.   
  
"Lord..." The Trickster began in mock prayer. "When will you teach people to give me what I want?"   
  
Kankri's eyebrows raised slightly in interest at the criminal's words, mentally taking note of a possible religious background for the villain. "What do you want Trickster?" He asked calmly, trying to follow the Tricker's line of thought as excitement filled him at the thought of finally getting the answer to the question everyone's been asking for the last four years since the manic menace appeared.   
  
"I want Dave." The Trickster replied with an incredulous expression. "For a fucking doctor, you're sure bad at listen when people talk aren't ya?"   
  
Kankri mouth ticked in mild annoyance at the villains language, but refrained from correcting out of fear for causing a disturbance in his decidedly "compliant" behavior thus far. "Other than Doctor Strider, what do you  **_want_ ** , Trickster? From Skia? From New York? What do you want from  **_life_ ** ?"   
  
The Trickster's eyes lidded for a moment as he regarded the therapist in front of him and decided just how he would break the annoying man.  _ He would have his way _ , he thought to himself with a sinister grin.  _ Eventually he always had his way. _   
  
"Chaos." The Trickster replied lowly, as he nodded his head and left his chin tucked down, causing his wide toothy grin to become even darker in its regard.   
  
"Chaos?" Kankri repeated slowly, the Trickster's gaze remaining unwavering in his predatory stare. Suddenly Kankri sensed a shift, a transfer of power and he immediately regretted his question, but persisted nonetheless just to see where this damning interrogation would lead. "Please explain what you mean by ‘ _ chaos’ _ ."   
  
"It's quite, uh, simple doc," the Trickster began, his voice losing its childish tone as he shifted from playful to his carefree demeanor into something sinister and gleeful. " You, and um, all the doctors here think I'm, uh,  **bad** , right?"   
  
"Trickster, we are all here to help you and-" Kankri started earnestly, only for the Trickster to cut him off with a menacing laugh.   
  
"Don't kid with me, Doc," he snapped with a sneer. "You and, uh, all your little uppity colleagues think I'm, uh, a nut job. Or a basket case!" Swirling blue orbs rolled to glance at the camera with a leer. "Or maybe a  **loon** ?" He grew pensive for a moment, drawing the already anxious doctors anxiety out even more by the minute. "But get this little tidbit, Doc. I'm not the  **_bad guy_ ** ." The Trickster leaned back in his chair and smirked down his nose at the therapist knowing the end was near for breaking him down.   
  
There was a long pause as the Trickster's words settled in the room coating it with unease.   
  
"Well, if what you are saying is true, then who  _ is _ the  _ ‘bad guy’ _ ?" Kankri asked quietly as the Trickster's lips stretched and stretched into an impossibly wide grin.   
  
"You know who the real bad guy is, don't you Dr. Cancer," the Trickster asked in a soothing voice. "That's why you became a therapist isn't? To beat the bad guy at his own game?"   
  
A memory of a man, short and unimpressive to most, but all powerful to the child cowering in fear under his foot as he shouts and raves about religion and blood color. A few hours later the man would be calm, almost kind, and repeat the same messages with less force, all the while systematically brainwashing the child.   
  
Kankri began to sweat; his childhood being drudged up and force-feed back into his mind from deep repressed memories. It's why he became a therapist, to find out why people were the way they were. To find out why his  **father** was the way he was; why he beat him; why he spoke of places and people that didn't exist; why he was always raving and shouting about a game or a place that never has and never exist.   
  
Right?   
  
_ The game wasn't real, right? _ Kankri rubbed at his face, paying no heed to the blood dripping from his nose, and then reached up suddenly to paw at his scalp.  _ His horns were gone. _   
  
_ I never had horns. _

 

Did I? 

 

I never had horns?

 

Never?  _ Nevernevernvernvernevernever _ -

 

**H A D**

 

**_H O R N S_ **

 

**_Right?_ **

  
"Kankri, you fucking **idiot,** **_of course_** you had horns," the Trickster shouted as he stood towering over the cowering doctor just as his father did. "How fucking **stupid** can you be, you piece of shit!?"  
  
"I never had horns!" Kankri shouted as he began to gouge at his scalp in a frantic search for candy corn colored horns that were **never** , **always** , **ALWAYS** , **never** , _can't be_ , **_A L W A Y S_** _there_ , **they were there!** _Where did they go?_ "No, I didn't- I didn't have-"  
  
"Gog Kankri, you always were a fucking **disappointment** ," the Trickster sighed with a berserk grin at the torment of the doctor in front of him as insanity began to gnaw and ripe into his psyche. It was almost too easy to find out the man's weakness, the Trickster could smell daddy issues a mile away.   
  
A vague murky memory of his own tried to surface of a man all dressed in white with a fedora and pipe. The Trickster growled lowly as he mentally ripped the thought to shreds and buried it deep deep down and then burned it with fire and acid before piling dirt back over the ashes.  
  
And then he began to laugh, a cackle that racked through his entire body at the hilarity of the situation. _Almost lost himself there! Ha ha! Almost went back to being that weak little_ ** _brat_** _he was before. Hahaha! Nonono, gotta stay on top of it. This loony bin might be getting to him. He was on a mission! He can't lose focus..._  
  
Shouting began to echo behind the steel doors behind him and the fervent murmurings of Dr. Cancer grew into wild confused shouts about how his skin was wrong as he continued to claw at his scalp looking for horns.  
  
"Don't you see, Doc," the Trickster giggled as guards swarmed the room and yanked him up from his chair. "I'm not the “ _bad guy”_ , I'm just, um, **ahead** of the **_curve._** "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all gonna have to wait on them pictured ._. stress is real


	12. Time Keeps on Ticking...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this story has taken on a life of its own 0-0 I have finally come up with a universe centric theory for all of this and it's hinted at throughout this chapter. See if you can guess what it is ;33

  
  
  


Rose regarded her twin in horror as as he finished rehashing the nightmare that was his first official day at work.   
  
"...And, like, even once they pulled Kankri out of there, he was still so fucked up they had to put him in restraints so he wouldn't keep tearing and finger knifing up his head..." Dave pause, something he had done many times during his tale, as he fully began to process the events he witnessed. "He...he kept asking for me... The Trickster." He brought his knees up to his chest and curled into himself. "Rose...I don't know what I'm gonna do. I don't want to go back to work tomorrow; fuck I don't think I even  **want** this job anymore!" Dave looked at his sister with uncovered crimson eyes filled with dread and fear. "I'm scared, Rose."   
  
It broke her heart to see her brother, who hard gone through so much already in life, have adversity upon adversity piled on top of him even more. Not even her magicks seemed to be able to keep the psychotic criminal at bay if Dave's nightmare had told the tale. He was her big brother( even if only by an hour) and she was watching him fall apart all over again.   
  
Just like the first few days of the fear toxin staining his mind with madness.   
  
"Oh, Dave," she sighed as she reached out for him and brought him into her arms. "You don't have to do this. You don't have to work there or even do psychology."   
  
"But I do! You, Roxy, and Dirk have amazing and successful jobs. You're making your own money, living off your own incomes, and me? I'm still living offa Mamalonde money and Puppet porn profits; granted, up until a couple of months ago I was in school so that wasn't such a bad thing, but dammit Rose I can't keep doing that with all of you guys do...just so much  **better** than me..."   
  
"Dave, no one would judge you-" Rose began in earnest, only for Dave to shake her off in frustration as he stood up to pace, his growing anxiety getting the best of his nerves and making him fidgety.   
  
" **I** would judge  **me** !" He shouted as he covered his face with his hands before letting them fall to his sides. "You don't know what it feels like to  **constantly** feel like the fuck up."    
  
Rose opened her mouth to interrupt, but Dave barreled right on over top of her. "  _ 'Oh no, I gotta take Dave to counseling because some pool obsessed nut job poisoned him with fucking toxic fear gas!' _ "   
  
"Da-" Rose started only for Dave to continue, his rant over taking him.   
  
" _ 'Oh no, I gotta pick Dave from school because a crow flew into the open window of a classroom and caused him to have a full blown panic attack!' _ "   
  
"Dave."    
  
" _ 'Oh no, Dave is having night terrors at 2am again and this is the  _ **_third_ ** _ time tonight I've had to wake him up!' _ "   
  
"Dave!"   
  
" _ 'Oh no- _ " Dave paused as cool hands grasped his cheeks bringing him back from the self-destructive and belittling hole he was stuck in.   
  
" **No one** thinks you're a burden, Dave," Rose whispered fiercely. "No one blames you for your trauma or pain. We all love you, Dave, I thought you knew."   
  
Dave sighed once, curling downward so that his forehead touched his sister's. She just didn't understand; she meant well but she didn't know  **truly** what he was going through. She was just as independent as the rest of them, with a successful relationship to boot; despite being so close, Rose couldn't be further from him of she lived in space.   
  
A cool trickle nosed at the back of her head as a vision filled Rose's eyes: Dave in a red and black bodysuit with puppeteering strings tied to his body while being controlled by blue gloved hands and a man with with Cheshire grin scars that swirled high up on his cheeks.   
  
Rose paled as her brother looked through her distantly, lost in his own thoughts.  _ This can't be his future, _ she thought as a chill filled her stomach.  _ This can't happen... _   
  
"Dave, you know we love you!" She asked fear trickling into her voice as her grip tighten on his face.   
  
Dave eyed her warily, not seeing where her sudden panic was coming from. "I mean,  **_yeah_ ** , in an existential sorta of way I know that, but I can't help but think-"   
  
" **No** !" She snapped, shutting him up as he focused on her more intently. "We have  **always** loved you and we  **always** will! Don't forget that!" Tears pricked at her eyes, but stayed firmly behind the lids as lavender gazes headlong into scarlet. " **_Please_ ** , remember that..."   
  
Dave reached up and cradled her hands that remained cupping his cheeks. "I'll remember..." He murmured softly.   
  
Rose wasn't satisfied, but it would have to do for now. She sighed to collect herself and then forced a smile. "Good. Now, you know what you need after such a long stressful day?"   
  
"A vacation." Dave deadpanned making her smirk.   
  
"Indeed, and I certainly recommend you call in sick tomorrow," she replied and he nodded slowly, taking her words into deeper consideration."But more so than that, the day needs to end in wine."   
  
Dave perked up at this. "Roxy's wine?"   
  
Rose snorted in an unladylike manner as she finally released Dave's face. "Like there's any other kind," she grinned, turning away from her brother to grab some glasses and a bottle, or at least she would have if she didn't feel the pressing need to look out on to her dark balcony.    
  
For a moment it looked as if a tall cloaked figure was standing just in the shadows of her terrace, but when she looked harder the balcony was empty save for some potted plants of Kanaya's and their loveseat swing. Still the thought that someone was watching them, though laughable at best given the apartments 18th floor penthouse position, made her feel anxious. With that she closed the window and blinds, blocking any wandering eagle eyes.   
  
~Blood Knight~   
  
The blond woman turned toward the balcony and paused, making Darksign curse under his breath as he backed further into the shadows before doing a backflip over the apartment ledge.   
  
He allowed himself to free fall for a while, enjoying the feeling of freedom it brought him, before detaching his grappling hook from his tool belt and firing it at the nearest building to pull himself up onto the ledge.    
  
_ "Darksign, are you fucking there?" _ Hydra whisper shouted into the communicator.   
  
"Yeah, what do you want?" Darksign snapped, annoyed that his son was out there with him instead of healing from his broken arm like he should be. He couldn't deny that he needed the help, and with Hermes in his own city solving his own cases, he had to deal with Hydra doing what he wished. Didn't mean he was fucking happy about the shit though.   
  
_ "Shit, you weren't gonna fucking tell me!? I just finished stopping a mugging in progress. Give me your location,"  _ Hydra groused.   
  
Darksign glanced at the corner and briefly thought of being an asshole and telling his son he was on his way home and they should meet there. But no, that would make the already near constantly irate twelve year old even more worrisome to deal with and Darksign had far too much to think about tonight as it was.    
  
Plus, the kid was always so angry he'd probably give himself an aneurism.   
  
The thought brought a bitter smile to his face. The child remind him of himself in a time long ago. A time he remembered but probably shouldn't.   
  
"I'm on top of the Painted Lady on the Upper East side." Darksign replied with a sigh.   
  
"On the corner of Main and 66th Street?" Hydra asked as he reached the edge of a building and somersaulted over the to the next with a wide grin on his face that others seldom saw.   
  
Darksign grunted in reply as he waited for his son and sidekick to reach him. With Hydra's last status check in being the red light district in South Side, he had a good fifteen to twenty minutes of alone time to ponder his thoughts on the evening.   
  
Hydra had hacked the English wireless transmission of the Trickster's first session from the caves, and things were looking bad already to say the least.    
  
After doing some research on Doctor Kankri Cancer, the pair discover that the Cancer family was very cancerous indeed. Kankri's father was an alcoholic with bipolar disorder who worked as a religious leader at a mosques in Arizona. Around that time racial tensions against the Middle East were less than positive and the community was feeling threatened. Being a leader was taking a toll on the elder Cancer; a toll he took out on his son resulting in his incarceration into a mental hospital and burning scars around Kankri's wrist and on his mind. No sooner was his father taken in, his mother attempted to commit suicide and was checked in right along with him.    
  
Kankri was then entrusted into the care of his grandmother who cared for him, as far as records could show, quite well until he graduated college. But no matter how well she might have treated him, years of abuse don't just go away and today was proof of that.   
  
Darksign sighed as he felt the weight of the world settle on his shoulders, making him feel heavier and sadder than wish he felt.    
  
Dealings with the Trickster was more than just dealing with the regular villain's who had at least a set motive and very little interest in him as an individual; he didn't have to worry about the other villains trying to get in his head and fuck with his mind and constantly make him question himself and his morals. Darksign would die again and again for what he truly believed in, but the Trickster pushed him, pushed him and pushed him into that Great Unknown space in his conscience known a doubt. He hated that he had any doubts about what he was doing and who he was, but he was only human( sorta).    
  
The worst thing was, it almost seemed like there was  **no** motive behind his crimes.  _ 'Chaos' _ , the Trickster's baritone yet oddly childish voice whispered through his mind.

  
Well, if he wants Chaos, he certain is apt at getting it. But that can't be it. Not really. That can't possibly be the true reason behind his crimes; because if that were true, that means there's no stopping him even with Darksign around(unless he was killed but that's probably impossible). Chaos cannot exist without Order and due to human nature, both are constantly occurring and inevitable, thus perpetually creating a balance. A balance that would not exist if Darksign didn't keep cleaning up the Trickster's mess. He was like a child knocking down block towers and buildings and Darksign was the adult that had to constantly rebuild and fix everything.   
  
The Trickster just wanting ‘ _ Chaos _ ’ couldn't be true, because without Darksign to stop him or clean up the damage, there would be nothing left to destroy and then, as the manic himself had said during their last strife, _ 'Things wouldn't be  _ **_nearly_ ** _ as entertaining around here!' _   
  
Sometimes, late at night when things are too calm and his mind was still racing, Darksign would think the real reason any of this is happening, and all his pain and suffering, was due to the fact he was already dead and this constant repetitive insanity was Hell.   
  
If  **only** it were that simple.   
  
No, the Chaos, as 'reasonable' as it may sound for the clown, is not what he wants; at least that's not what's keeping him 'docile' in the facility.    
  
He wants Dave Strider. Why is easy enough given what Darksign suspects of the Trickster, but as for why...   
  
"Darksign!" A young gruff voice called to him from a building over. Darksign turned to watch Hydra flip over the edge and unto his own building, winded and wind blown, but satisfied and safe nonetheless. "Did you find out anything?"   
  
"Nothing we didn't already know from watching the session ourselves." Darksign replied with a grumble. "We may be in luck with the kid. He sounds like he wants to quit."   
  
"I would wanna quit too if some crazy asshole kept killing my co-workers to get to me," Hydra muttered bitterly. "How in the shitting hell is he not laid off as it is?!"   
  
"He hasn't done anything wrong." Darksign replied, making Hydra cross his arms in a huff and then curse loudly when the action caused a sharp pain to echo up his arm from elbow to wrist. Darksign glared daggers at him for both the noise and for further making him regret letting the sidekick out on patrol tonight. "The last thing English wants is a worker's lawsuit on top of everything else."   
  
"He has to have done  **something** fucked up if he has the Trickster interested in him," Hydra countered snappily. "Dave Strider is just some Richie Rich albino white boy. The only thing special about him is his red eyes and even that's not that special around here." Hydra pointed looked at his father to see his own scarlet orbs, though far less spry and expressive, mirrored back at him. "Maybe it's got something to do with his wealth?"   
  
"The Strider's and Lolande's are wealthy organically. Self-made and successful." Darksign shook his head. Roxanne was a jack-of-all-trades scientist so it's no wonder she's well off, but Ambrose and his puppet porn thing was just fucking weird no matter how well it checks out.   
  
"Then I give the fuck up!" Hydra cursed flinging his hands high into the air and then shrieking with pain with the force it put on his injury.   
  
Darksign sighed long and deep as he reached into his cape pocket to withdraw a remote. With the click of one of the eight buttons, the Krabmobile pulled up in the alley way beside the building.   
  
"That's it, we're going home, dammit!" Darksign snapped as he shoved his son toward the ledge as he continued to grumble until he jumped and landed securely in the passenger seat with his father falling safely into the driver seat beside him. "I'm sick of you jostling your damn arm! Where the fuck is your sling?"   
  
Hydra snorted as they pulled off. "Yeah fucking right, I'm gonna let those bulgebiting criminals see me at anything less than asskickingtastic condition!"   
  
"Dammit Klarke-"   
  
"It's Hydra, fuckass!"   
  
"When you're my goddamn son it's Klarke, you lil asshole!" Karkat shouted startling the boy with the worry he allowed to leak into his voice. "And I'll be damned if some shit happens to you out here because you're worried about appearances! If you were so worried about appearances you should have kept your little ass  **home** and trained or researched the case! Instead you're out here almost getting yourself killed!"   
  
"I was fine dammit!"   
  
"I DON'T NEED ANOTHER KARSON!" Karkat bellowed, parking the car in the hideout. The words rang loud and damaging in the car as the two paused as they remembered the head of the Hydra the Trickster 'pranked' off.   
  
"He came back." Klarke muttered in a small voice.   
  
"But you might not." Karkat replied just as quietly. "God, I just don't want to lose  **another** son.  **Please** ."   
  
Klarke was quiet for a moment before nodding once and hopping out of the Krabmobile, favoring his injury, and walking further into the hideout known as The Shallows to the Krab Family.   
  
"Have William look at your arm." Karkat called out to him as he got out the car and made his way to the master computer.   
  
Klarke raised his good arm in an affirmative as he stepped in the elevator to enter the Manor.   
  
At the computer Karkat pulled all the files on every employee of English Asylum and began the meticulous process of memorizing all the names and noting the at risk individuals.   
  
This is gonna be a long night, Karkat sighed as he pulled off his cowl and scratched at his thick black hair. "For shits sake..."   
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So of course the Krab Family(*sigh* please please if y'all can come up with a better name TELL ME 9-9 I HATE THE NAME SO MUCH FUCK ME WITH A RUSTY FORK) is based off the Bat Family. Unlike the Bat Family the Krab Family is based off Greek mythology and not bat shit( or rather krab shit) so just so it's clear I'm gonna list all the Heads of the Hydra (or Robins) now and who they became so it's less confusing.
> 
> Hydra 1: Karkinos Grayson = Richard Grayson >Hermes  
> Hydra 2: Karson Todd= Jason Todd (the Robin that fucking died) >Autolycus  
> Hydra 3: Konner Drake= Tim Drake (tortured Robin)> Prometheus  
> Hydra 4: Klarke Vantas= Damian Wayne( Batman's blood son. League of Assassins)> current Hydra
> 
> You should look up the heros names if you wanna know why I specifically chose them :3 lots of research 9-9 so much research.
> 
> Also Klarke and Karkat are obviously Karkat but at different points of maturity in Homestuck. Just like Damian reminds everyone of young Bruce( but like a lot more arrogant) Klarke is young Karkat. It will become clear later on why Karkat is the why he currently is.


	13. Remember Me

"So, like, then, Big Daddy was all like-" The raven haired boy babbled as Dave tuned in and out, simply enjoying his companions baritone voice filled with childish awe and whimsy.  
  
The day was pretty nice too. Bright blue with whispy white clouds curling over and under one another. The sun shone high in the sky, bring with its rays of light a warmth complemented by the cool breeze that blew by every once and awhile.   
  
It really was the perfect day.  
  
"Dave!" His companion called out to him being his gaze from the blue of the sky down to the azure orbs of the boy in front of him. "Were you listening to me?"  
  
"Dude, I know the boring ass plot to Kickass forwards and backwards," I sighed dramatically as the boy pouted with his plump lips and buckteeth. "We've seen it together like a thousand times, man!"  
  
"But it's my favorite~," the boy whined as he leaned on my arm causing a blush to rise to my cheeks. "Daaaavvvveee~"  
  
I looked down at him and paused. There was a flicker, a brief discoloration and distortion of his visage that gave me pause.   
  
**Why is his hair blue?**  
  
It's **black**.  
  
He has black hair.  
  
He **always** has.  
  
Hasn't he?  
  
He  
  
H  
  
E  
  
A pressure began to build up in the front of my forehead as I shrugged the boy off, much to his displease, and flinched when he reached for me again.   
  
_He?_ _I know him don't I?_ _I don't-_ ~~ ** _I remember_**~~ _, don't remember, who. Who is he? He-_ ~~ ** _I know_**~~ _\- don't know_.  
  
The day, once bright and sunny, glitched in my peripheral vision into some place of impossible blues and a sky overcast in steely greys and blacks. The terrain around us grew enforested by indigo willows with teal mushrooms lighting our navy path and every once in awhile a firefly would float by lazily blinking it's iridescent white light.  
  
"Dave-" the boy began with an exasperated sigh as I cradled my head in my hands to fight off the pounding pain between my brows.  
  
 _Fuck!_ ** _FUCK_** _! He( whoishe? I dont knowknowknowknowknowknow_ ** _k n o w_** _.....) is so familiar how can I not know(_ ~~ ** _iknowiknowiknowalwaysknow_**~~ _). Why is this so hard?!_ ** _FUCK_** _!_  
  
"Really, Dave?" The boy sigh as he put his hand on my shoulder, causing my head to snap up to see swirling technicolor blue eyes and cheeks marred in a spiralling Cheshire grin.  
  
_Oh fuck, oh god, oh fucking god he's here again in my fucking dreams! Oh fuck fuck fuck-_ "Trickster..." I whispered as all the color drained from my face.  
  
For a moment the villain looked confused before blinking once then twice and then sighing. "Dave, please, I just wanna talk."  
  
"ROSE!!!" I screamed into the clouded night, disrupting a swarm of fireflies that scattered into the sky erratically in an explosion of light. "HELP!!!"  
  
The Trickster regarded me analytically for a moment before grinning widely with a flourish of giggles. "Cute witchy sister you've got there watching out for ya!" He snickered as he began to circle me. "Too, uh, bad she doesn't have anything on me, or else it would be harder for me to, uh, get at ya, don't ya think?"  
  
I froze and fear for myself was momentarily all but forgotten at the notion that my baby sister could be hurt. 

  
My face hardened and before I could register my actions, I had flashstepped in front of the Trickster and was gripping him by the lapels of his candy blue suit despite him being a couple of inches taller than me.   
  
"The fuck did you do to Rose?" I growled lowly as the Trickster grinned even wider before laughing loudly in my face. His breath smelled oddly of blood and cotton candy which was....really fucking weird. Just hella fucking weird.   
  
"Tut Tut, that would ruin the surprise, um, wouldn't it, Davey~" the Trickster chuckled with jazz hands( or maybe that was more of a spasming tick)   
  
"What the hell do you want from me?" I shouted shaking him savagely as he just cackled away. "This what you want from me!? A fight!? You wanna fucking fight me dammit!?"   
  
The Trickster's leer dropped and suddenly the magical feared-by-all villain in front of me just seemed like a tired old man, world wary and deeply annoyed. The change was so drastic, I was taken aback for a moment and my grip on him loosened a touch.   
  
"No, Dave, I don't want to fight you," he sighed as he gently shook me off and took a step back. "I just wanted to talk but  **_you_ ** ," he spat with a brief sneer that widened into a manic leer as his eyes shined an even brighter blue spreading his arms to present himself and his blue tuxedo glory. "Only want this from me! You and everyone else!"   
  
I squinted at the lunatic in front of me and grimaced. "Are you fucking  **serious** right now? No one wants you to be like this! No one wants some crazy clown man blowing up the cancer research hospital!"   
  
The Trickster approached me grin widening as he smirked at me. "Dave, Dave, Dave, you honestly think people don't want me here? You really think I'm a monster don't you-"   
  
"You're damn right I-"   
  
"Well you're wrong!" He snapped with a wag of his finger before slapping his hands on my cheeks and forcing us nose to nose. "You're just not getting the  **bigger picture** ! That's the  _ problem _ with with this world! Everyone is just missing the  **_Big_ ** .  **_Picture_ ** ."   
  
"What 'big picture'?" I groused through clinched teeth.   
  
"Tell me this, do you honestly think that with all the advancements made within the last decade alone, that the cure for cancer  _ hasn't _ already been found?" The Trickster asked, his swirling sapphire eyes boring into mine though the tint of my shades.   
  
To be honest, I've never really thought about it. I mean, sure, cancer has been around since people have been breathing and yeah there's been a lot of advancements in technology but cancer is complicated. "Cancer is complicated," I replied aloud as the Trickster rolled his eyes.   
  
"See, Dave, youre missing the  **_Big Picture_ ** ! Think! Think about what cancer  **_really_ ** means," the Trickster urged and I looked back at him blankly. "Modern medicine can't, or really just  **Wont** , even cure the common cold! And do you know  **_why_ ** !?"   
  
"It's fucking complicated and people are unique-"    
  
" **Listen to me** !" He shouted with a violent shake of my head that nearly knocked my shades off their already skewed perch. "You're smarter than this! I can see it in you! You just need help seeing the  **_Bigger Picture_ ** . I'll help you out: the reason why there's no cure for cancer is because there's no  **money** in a  **cure** ."    
  
I frowned and parted my lips to refute his claims, only for him to shake me again. " **_Think_ ** ! How much money do you think people spend on treatment? On different types of therapy and going to see doctors? How many people go through all that treatment and therapy and go hundreds of thousands of dollars into debt just to die anyway? How many hundreds of charities do you think there are devoted to, mind you not raising money for research, but 'spreading awareness' alone of all the different types of cancer?" He paused to let the words sink in and I began to think.    
  
I thought about all the money and how rare survivor stories were. I thought about all the years I spent in med school and what we learned of cancer as an autoimmune disease that could be hereditary or develop out of the blue and how difficult it was to treat. I thought about the medical industry and how much medication cost with or without insurance and how the families of the victims are left with the bill regardless of if their loved ones lived or died.   
  
It really was a multi-billion dollar cash cow, this horrible life threatening disease without a sure cure.   
  
I had never really questioned it all before. I always thought that medicine was trying to help in earnest, but now....Now, I'm not so sure.   
  
The doubt must have shown in my eyes, because the Trickster's determined grimace pulled back into bitter smirk. "That's right Davey, take a gander at the  **_Big Picture_ ** . The owner of Derse Cancer Research was embezzling millions of dollars worth of funds into personal overseas bank accounts and giving the patients purposefully shoddy medication to prolong their stay but not their overall health. Now tell me Davey, who's the  **_real_ ** monster here?"   
  
"You could have just exposed the owner! Ratted them out to the cops or FBI something." I reasoned as he shook his head, seemingly disappointed in my reply. "You didn't have to blow the place sky high!"   
  
"You're just  **_not getting it_ ** ," the Trickster huffed, blowing another breath of sugar coated blood breathe in my face. "How many people  **actually** died in my public demonstration, hmm?" I opened my mouth to reply with accounts of hundreds of injuries and deaths, but just paused of being actually sure. "Oh, don't worry I'll wait wait, but let me just give you another hint:  **_nobody_ ** died in that explosion Dave!"   
  
"But how-"   
  
"The Caped Crabby Cunt was able to round up all the patients before the bomb could go off," the Trickster rolled his eyes in boredom. "He wouldn't even  **look** for it! Asshole!"    
  
The Trickster paused deep in thought and I took the time to watch him closely. I would have thought he'd be angry that Nemesis had beaten him; hell I thought he wanted to kill all the people in the building! But that doesn't seem to be his MO at all, which is jarring to say the least given all that has been perceived about the villain.   
  
"You're not mad?" I asked hesitantly only to receive a blank look in return. "That he foiled your plans again? I mean you seem to have this grand vendetta against him and yet you're casually shrugging off your defeat. So, like, what's up?"   
  
The Trickster shrugged and turned away from me. He then proceeded to walk towards a medium sized boulder and sat down. "We all got what we wanted in the end, so there's no reason to get mad." He shrugged once more, staring off into the line of trees to the left of him complacently.    
  
I stared at him as he wallowed in silence, lost in thought. Before I realized what I was doing I found myself seated next to him, following his line of sight, interested in seeing what he saw.   
  
"Did you really get what you wanted?" I asked after a moment and watched as his eyes flickered in my direction for a moment, and then returning to their original position.    
  
"Of course! I'm an agent of chaos and that demonstration  **embodied** chaos," he grinning jubilantly. "I'm mean, sure Nemesis kicked my ass and got me landed in the  **_funny farm,_ ** but in the end I adhered to my calling and I suppose so did he. We all have a calling...." He trailed off, cyan eyes drilling into my own. Silently telling me something I could only wish( would dread) to know.   
  
I watched at the Trickster stared down into his gloved hands before beginning to unsheathe them. Long tapered fingers with the paleness of albino spiders lit up the night with an almost luminance glow. Swirling blue orbs focused on me once again as he very slowly reached out for me. I flinched back on impulse( because who the fuck wouldn't) and watched at the Trickster's curiosity filled gaze twitched as if burned and the image of him in front of me glitched into the boy with unruly onyx locks and pained cerulean eyes.   
  
Again a wave of nostalgia so strong and profound hit me that for a moment I felt hurt myself.    
  
_ Why would I flinched away from him?  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He's my best friend. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He's been with me my whole life almost. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Why would I treat  _ **_?©#π_ ** _ this why. _   
  
_ Who? _ _   
_ _   
_ __ Wait, who? Why would I?whywouldiwhywouldiwhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy   
  
The world around me began to fall apart and crumble beneath my feet. The overcast sky started to clear as the trees unearthly glow reached new blinding heights.   
  
The last image I have of the surreal landscape was the visage of the Trickster forlorn and lost with a face so familiar it made my heart pang and my head pain.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	14. Broad Shoulders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been away :(( I'm in arts school and DYING ._. I'm gonna answer comments too :33

  
  
_The subterranean facility of English Asylum Maximum Security Building shone ghostly in the pale moonlight amongst the dark forest of Skaia Upstate New York. The city bustled loudly on the mainland many miles away with its heroes and criminals hard at work in their respective fields._

 

_One such criminal stood outside the grand ghastly facility dressed in a crimson suit of white pinstripes with a red cane resembling a fork griped in her white gloves hand._

  
Aradia's pale lids fluttered as she felt a pressure on her small bubble of time that she kept her space enshrouded in at all times.  
  
_Interesting..._ She thought to herself knowing the power instantly as it flooded the facility and the hospital staff began to drop lifelessly to the ground. _I suppose she was due to arrive sometime this week...Jane..._ With a mild mental stretch, Aradia paused and rewound all the cameras in the building to before the bodies began to fall and set a mental timer for them to start again once the foreign presence was gone.  
  
_Yes...this is will be very interesting_ , she thought turning on her side and snuggling into her crisp white she's with a wide grin on her lips.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
**_Dammit_** , the Trickster grimaced as he felt his soul settle back into his body. **_Almost!_** _I could almost touch him! He would have let me...I just have to try_ ** _harder_** _. Almost... I-_  
  
Blue lashes fluttered open in a haze to regard another equally eerie pair of cyan orbs peering at him from the other side of three inch thick bulletproof glass.  
  
_This is why I_ ** _hate_** _being incarcerated_ , he groused mentally as he crossed his arms and petulantly turned away from the glass.  
  
"Trickster." The woman called to him as he continued to pout. "Dammit, Trickster look at me!" The Trickster flopped down sideways facing the wall and flipped the bird at the woman who huffed and glared. "Trickster, if you don't look at me right now, I will call you by your Christian name, so help me Gog!"  
  
"Ahahaggahahah!" The Trickster yelled as he shot up and charged the glass wall, his face flushed and twisted into a scowl. "What the **Fuck** do you want Jane!?" He snarled at the voluptuous woman who gazed back disinterestedly from the other side.   
  
"Is it so surprising that I would want to check on my baby brother after he got his ass kicked on national television?" She asked sweetly with a smirk on her blood red lips.  
  
"Tell the whole damn prison why don't ya!?" The Trickster shouted with his arms thrown up in agitation. "No really! Just give them my fucking pre-pseudocide name and address too why don't cha! Tell ' em about **Dad** too, I'm sure the doctors will get a kick outta that shit!" As he ranted he began to float,  lime green jumpsuit fluttering I'm his self-made breeze. His sapphire eyes darkened and hardened onto lapis orbs of of bitterness. "Why don't ya tell em how I got my scars, Jane? Tell them about the **Game**."  
  
Jane's shoulders slumped as she sighed and removed her red and white fedora to run her tan fingers through her curly black hair before smoothing her crimson pencil skirt. As much as she loved her brother, the child had a way of bringing up things better left at rest. "John..."  
  
"No! Shut up don't call me that!" The Trickster shouted as he covered his ears and the wind howled loudly in his cell. _I'm not_ ** _allowed_** _to be John anymore! I can't! I'm the_ ** _Trickster_** _now! There is no John! John_ ** _died_** _._  
  
_John died many times over and over again and he died a long time ago._  
  
_I miss being John._  
  
The forlorn and melancholic thoughts caused bitter manic laughter to the Trickster's lips. "Ahahahahhahahahahaha! HAHAHAHAHA! I ALMOST FORGOT _JANEY_!" He cackled as he hovered upside down, twisting and turning in the air like a snake having a seizure. "That was a great **prank** Jane! HAha! That was **_just_** what I needed! You know, for being stuck on the **_funny farm_** no one gets any of my **_jokes_**? It's a **_tragedy_**!"  
  
"Dammit, John calm the fuck down, buster!" Jane snapped, feeling her patience drop in the face of her brother and his antics. Since Dad was murdered John had never been the same. Their father was supposed to help the memories come smoothly and easily during his thirteenth birthday to keep him from **€o®rUpTiπg** , but then **Slick** happened and John went Trickster.  
  
It's been hard, especially since she had to inherit the family business and manage the Organization, but she'll always be there for her brother to bail him out.   
  
Which is why she was there to break him out of the loony bin.  
  
"John, I'm here to break you out!" She shouted at him over the wailing gales of wind her brother had managed to conjure up.   
  
"Huh?" He questioned as he paused in his coiling to float upside down with his legs crossed. "I don't need you to break me out."  
  
"You don't? Because if I remember correctly you called me to break you out of Skaia State Penitentiary last time. And the time before that, and the time before that..." She drawled with a raised perfectly arched eyebrow.   
  
The Trickster waved her off. "SSP is **_Way_** different than English! I could get out of here way easy, but I found something **interesting**."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Dave," the Trickster sighed with a softness often absent in his gaze.  
  
Jane's eyes widened and a small pain began to prick at the base of her neck as repressed memories flooded her mind. "Strider? The _Striders_ are in this dimension?" She asked frantically as she pressed her hands to the glass in front of her, mentally weighing the merits of breaking into the cell just to shake her brother for the answers.  
  
"Jane...Jane I think **everyone** is here!" John grinned at her through the visage of the Trickster. _'Just this once,'_ his protector allowed as John was give access to the world without his alter ego making him stronger and "crazier" than he actually was. "It's amazing! Jane, this hospital has literally almost **everyone** working here!"  
  
Jane's nose began to bleed as vaguely familiar faces came back to her with sharpened clarity. "Oh my god... OH MY GOD!" She cried as adrenaline pumping through her veins. "John! Do you think... Do you think that maybe Roxy is here!?"  
  
"I don't know, but I think there's a pretty good chance!" John grinned as tears began to well in his sister's eyes. "If everyone is here we have to **_Wake_** them up!"  
  
The relief filled smile on Jane's face stretched into a wide berserk grin that was mirrored in her younger brother's face as her sky blue eyes flashed black and red in the dim light.  
  
"That's right, Johnny boy," she laughed, lowering the brim of her fedora as she turned on her heels while the sinister cogs in her mind began to turn with plans to reunite her and John with their friends once again. "Hoho! We just have to **_kill them all!_** "  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to give a LONG over due shout out to Tumblr user mutantlullaby who did a Lovely redition of my Davey~~~ here's a link so check it out yo!  
> http://mutantlullaby.tumblr.com/post/148772424587/david-quinn-strider-for-day-3-of-daveweek-im-not


	15. Don't Wanna Fall In Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mutherfucking Art School. But also I got into my major :33

Ain't no personal thing...   
  
  
As the days passed many doctors took on the trying task of breaking *ahem*  _ "treating" _ the Trickster, and all failed with varying degrees of trauma done to them. Most doctors would only last about fifteen minutes after their introduction before some mental or physical calamity took place. 

 

And those were the lucky ones.   
  
Dr. Caval's prized and self breed race horses were all struck with with mortal illnesses that had them all perish overnight. Meenah Pexeis admitted to the murders of 50 plus individuals and being under the employ of her "supposedly" estrange crime family. Mysteriously her adopted sister Fancie turned in her resignation letter and disappeared within the same hour. Dr. Nitram's bird suffered a psychotic break down midsession and in the mists of calming the bird, the Trickster slipped from his restraints and severed the doctors spine with a playing card with the strength and sharpness of a razor blade, rendering him permanently paralyzed from the waist down.    
  
The calmest sessions, when the Trickster was the most compliant, were the most disastrous.    
  
In his session with Dr. Harley the Trickster described a childhood friend with narcolepsy that lived overseas on a private island.    
  
"Oh, she was the best!" The Trickster hmmed, eyeing the doctor carefully to gauge her reaction. He watched as her brow furrowed and her jaw relaxed with overcoming perplexity. "The girl was literally raised by a wolf! Her grandfather was killed in an accident when she was young...so sad but at least she had  **_us_ ** ..." Cerulean orbs swirled and churned as he relished the  **Corruption** of Jade Harley.   
  
She didn't understand why the person and life he described of his friend filled her with such heart wrenching nostalgia. She didn't know why she felt as if the detailed were carved into her skin. Memories not her own filled her, confused her, €o®rüp78d her...   
  
"Oh, she was a  **hoot** !" He continued dig up the memories of lives lost and long over. "She was a true  **marksman** !" At his words, something in Jade seemed to break and she stood abruptly with the terror filled need to leave. Immediately. "Where you going  **Jade** ?" The Trickster smirked as the doctor neared the door.    
  
For the briefest of seconds Jade saw it. She saw the island with its' verdant and dense jungle that encircled a steep volcano. She could almost feel the smooth marbled finish of the towering mansion that sat atop a mountain in the shadows of the volcano. The vast Pacific ocean stretched on into the horizon, so far that the ocean met the sky without any other land masses insight.    
  
It was beautiful.   
  
It was familiar.   
  
$E¢?   
  
B#c?   
  
**_Where's BEC_ ** **?**   
  
Pain, white-hot and sharp, struck Dr. Harley between the eyes and knocked her out cold for the rest of evening and much of the next day. Once awake she was very disoriented and could scarcely remember where she was. She was deemed unfit to return to her residence and remained on observation for almost another three day before being released on sabbatical.   
  
The hospital director grew desperate still and kept trying different tactics to gain insight to the Trickster's twisted mind. She did everything she could to combat him and make him talk. Drugs were a disaster that ended with the serious injury to four resident doctors and the resignation of a severely traumatized nurse. Isolation therapy had no effect since the Trickster seemed quite happy all alone; despite the horrifying tales he told himself late into the night involving checkerboard fields and “trolls”. They couldn't treat him many other ways because they didn't know the manner of his illness and despite the individual in question the  **Last** thing English needed was a malpractice suit.    
  
Calliope did everything she could short of two damning and near impossible choices: letting him outside the facility and making Dave Strider his doctor.   
  
Not letting the monster outside was a given decision, but the choice to resist giving him his doctor of desire was getting harder and harder to put off day after day.    
  
Something about giving that malicious maniac the novice doctor made the director extremely uneasy. His obsession was unnerving and everyday it seemed to grow worse. It got so bad that the director enlisted the help of a psychologist of a sister facility in Derse, a neighboring county, in order to some way appease the unpleasant clown.    
  
Dr. Kráka was an a psychologist for wayward youths with a minor in criminal psychology who worked for child protective services. After discussing her dilemma with a close friend and colleague they offered to present the task to the young doctor.    
  
When Calliope met the young man she was struck by the similarities between him and Dr. Strider. The two could be twins; a damn near identical pair. The only difference between the two was the that Doctor Derek Kráka was just a slight hue darker than Dr. Strider in complexion and hair tone, but other than that the two could be doppelgangers.    
  
The session between the Trickster and Dr. Kráka went off without a hitch. The Trickster seemed to regard the Strider double with a sincere kindness and affection the entire one hour session.    
  
That was right up until the last two minutes.   
  
"Well Trickster, it seems this is your best session to date." Dr. Kráka grinned as he began to stand while the Trickster gazed back at him with something resembling nostalgia set in his eyes. "I look forward to working with you and helping to you get better."   
  
The Trickster smiled wanly with a shrug of his broad shoulders. "Maybe in another timeline you could have."   
  
Dr. Kráka blinked with mild unease. "What do you mean?" He asked as a cool pit took residence in his stomach.   
  
The Trickster leaned forward and gazed headlong into the doctor's tangerine colored eyes. " I mean, no matter how hard you try, you'll only ever be  **another dead Dave** ."    
  
With those words something deep inside Derek broke.   
  
All his life he felt like he was failing. Like he was missing a piece of himself he didn't quite have the knowledge or capacity to truly understand. No matter how well he did or how unique he thought himself to be, he always felt like a backup player in his own life.    
  
A dud.   
  
A failure.   
  
As an only child in an adopted home there was no reason to have this feeling of second-bestedness; there was never anyone to feel second rate to. Always the top of his class, always excelling in his work, always succeeding in life; and yet he constantly felt as if he was a recall never returned to the factory.    
  
A fake.    
  
A mistake.   
  
The thoughts clouded his mind as he left the facility in a daze; hearing none of the praise and words of gratitude from the director and the other present faculty. He just wanted to go home. He wanted to be somewhere he knew was his and his alone. Not this job which was given to him for reasons the director neglected to explain.   
  
It's not as if he was some highly acclaimed psychologist or a prodigy in his field. There was no reason for him to be given to this high class, high paying job at the best facility on this side of the country. He knew he was being played, he just didn't know why or even why  _ him _ ?    
  
What was it about him that was so different? How was he special? Why-   
  
Lost in his own thoughts as he traversed the labyrinth that was the English Asylum, Dr. Kráka bumped into a doctor he hadn't seen during his briefing on the Trickster earlier with the other staff.    
  
Still focusing intently on finding the exit, it took the doctor a moment to truly regard the person in front of him; but once he did his blood ran cold.   
  
"Whoa! Sorry dude, didn't see ya there," Dr. Strider smirked wanly before looking up and blinking owlishly at the doctor before him. "What the fuck?" Dr. Kráka just stared back, lost in a shock of his own. "Who the hell are you, and why do you look like me?"   
  
Dr. Kráka's mind went blank as all the air left his lungs as realization dawned on him. This was the doctor the others had whispered about throughout the day. The one the Trickster really wanted. Not him. No, he was just a replacement. He was-  "I'm just...another dead Dave." He whispered hoarsely.   
  
Dr. Strider paled and took a step back as he watched the doppelganger turn and shuffle away.   
  
On the six o'clock news that evening a red pickup truck was reported to have driven off the George Washington bridge going into Manhattan.    
  
The driver was a 28 year old psychology by the name of Derek David Kráka.   
  
> Day 9 <   
  
"A red Ford F-150 was seen speeding through the guardrails of the George Washington Bridge during evening traffic onto the city. Eyewitness accounts report no detectable foul play-" the TV went blank with a flash before Dave threw the remote across the room in frustration.    
  
_ It's my fault _ , he thought hollowly.  _ That was the doctor that saw the Trickster today and he fucking drove himself over the edge of a fucking bridge. _ He had been late this morning after his own endeavors with the clown invading his dreaming and poisoning his mind the night before and was unable to meet the doctor before the session. 

 

But after seeing him just once Dave knew why the session had seemingly gone off without a hitch.   
  
The dead doctor's words rang in his ears: _"I'm just...another dead Dave..."_  
  
 _Oh god, oh god why did he say that!?_ Daves stomach twisted with nausea as all the night terrors in which he had thought those exact words blurred into a gory mess in his mind. _Those words! Why those words!? Dead Dave's!? Dead Dave's!!!_   
  
"Well. He was."  
  
"Fuck me in the ass sideways over a card table," Dave groaned hanging his head in his hands, conflicting feelings at his unwanted apparition.  
  
"Oh baby, I would if I could," the Trickster purred, hovering eerily just over Dave's hunched should in a manner that made the lack of breathe on his face more unnerving than if it had actually been there.  
  
"I'm losing my goddamn mind," Dave shouted into his hands as the Trickster rolled his swilling eyes and floated languidly on his back, the pressed navy suit he wore moving like a second skin with his wiry frame.  
  
"Come now Dave, you know I'm **actually** here-"  
  
"No, you're in fucking jail, like you're **_Supposed To Be_**!" Dave growled as he adamantly refused to make eye contact with the "manifestation" as his sister referred to the being who remained quite unseen to all but Dave Strider.  
  
"Wrong!" The Trickster yelled in a singsong manner. "Well, wrong with a hint of right, I suppose. I'm using a lil magic so that I can hangout with you." The clown man grinned, the swirls on his cheeks brightening a touch with what one could assume was a blush, which remained lost on Dave whose head remained in his hands.   
  
"Why do you want to hangout with ME!?" Dave groaned as his internal panic struggled for dominance over his annoyance.  
  
"Well. I miss you." John answered earnestly, and for a moment the image of the Trickster glitched as a man in sky blue cashmere pajamas and raven black hair gazed sadly at Dave through the eyes of a madman.   
  
"I DON'T KNOW YOU!" Dave howled while a part of him deep inside felt how wrong that was and wondered why.   
  
John's face crumpled as he retreated inside his psyche to let his alter take the lead in this too cruel reality he just couldn't handle at the moment. _Maybe Dave will remember one day_ , he thought as his fading away.   
  
_Soon_ , the Trickster promised. "How, uh, cruel of you Davey~" the Trickster cooed in a leer as he gazed down at Dave menacingly. "You loved me **once**. "  
  
"Okay. No." Dave snapped, finally released his face from the cage of protection his fingers brought him. "I've never met you-"  
  
" **You've known me so long, even if your brain forgets** -" the Trickster whispered gazing headlong into Dave's ruby red eyes as his own manic grin stretched and s t r e t c h e d  
  
Dave blanched and began to back away from the Trickster to no avail since the fiend just continue to hover mere centimeters from his face.   
  
"No. Stop." Dave sputtered, his dampening back pressed flush with the wall as the madman floated closer still. Cerulean surrounded by too pale skin was all Dave could see as his breath caught in his throat.  
  
" **Your** ** _Soul_** **will remember me**..." The Trickster purred, a hairsbreadth from Dave's lips.   
  
And by mere coincidence Dave tripped. It was odd really, how after standing so far back, and so forcefully against the wall, that he managed to tip forward into the lips of his aggressor. It was almost as his he wanted it to happen.

  
Almost like he  wanted \-    
  
"Dave what are you doing?"    
  
Startled by his sister voice, Dave pitched forward and fell face forward over the coffee table to land awkwardly with his ass up in the air and his spine aching painfully as it bent in a 65° angle while his face married into his dirty hardwood floor.    
  
"I was against the wall." Dave deadpanned with mouth kissing dust bunnies.   
  
"No you weren't," Rose replied with a downward tick of her lavender lips. "You've been behaving oddly for the last hour. You didn't even welcome me in." She wandered forward a few steps. To look down at his sibling in a concerned manner. "Actually you seemed to be rather entranced."   
  
Dave took the time to actually look around his apartment and noticed how dark it was outside already. "What time is it?" He asked befuddled.   
  
Rose was quiet for a moment, eye her brother with hidden worry. "What time do you think it is?" She asked.    
  
"7ish?" Dave replied hesitantly and felt the very wrongness of that reply in deep in his heart.    
  
"Dave it's 10:30." Rose stated softly.   
  
Dave sat cross-legged on the floor and stared at his hands. "He was here." He whispered.   
  
Rose sat down beside her brother and wrapped her arm around him. "I know."   
  
"He tried to kiss me."   
  
**_I know_ ** , Rose thought to herself. Seeing in her mind's eye her brother becoming more and more attached to the person they no longer knew. She knew more than Dave knew about the person now called Trickster and the past and damned future they share. She was worried, but she had come to terms with how this timeline would play out weeks ago. Rose watched as her brother stared down into the palms of his hands and felt.    
  
_ It's better than a doomed timeline at least _ , She thought.  _ I hate dead Daves. _

**Author's Note:**

> So under heavy edit (story is still the same mostly grammar edits and the like but one bug surprise!!!)  
> COMING SOON  
> *PICTURE'S!!!!*


End file.
